Quantum of Chaos
by Isobel Rowan
Summary: Time Enough SEQUEL. Janeway finds a divided, mutinous crew on a ship with strained resources. Bizarre aliens harass them. Seven grows fractious with their closeted relationship. Voyager's children are morphing. Can they ever hope to get home? Lesbian. AO.
1. Systematic Bedlam

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to get this going. I needed a little break. Hope you enjoy it.  
**

**Summary: "Time Enough" sequel. Janeway finds a divided, mutinous crew on a ship with strained resources. Bizarre aliens—unlike any ever encountered—harass them. Seven grows fractious with their closeted relationship. Voyager's children are morphing. Can they ever hope to get home? Lesbian. AO. AU.  
**

**Quantum of Chaos**  
Chapter 1: Systematic Bedlam

Captain Kathryn Janeway watched dismally as the chronometer ticked to ten hundred hours. Her secret rendezvous with Seven of Nine was only an hour away but it may as well be tomorrow, with the way time was crawling.

This was a totally new experience. Janeway had always been able to immerse herself in the moment, whether she was taking piano lessons as a child or cataloging gaseous anomalies as a cadet. Time was an ally that carried her along its wild rapids.

Since she, Seven of Nine and Dani had returned to Voyager, the routine that had once brought the Captain solace and even satisfaction was now a choking hand at her throat. The ship's systems, its very rhythms had always been a source of strength. Now Janeway's duties and responsibilities kept her from her loved ones in a painful echo of her father. But she was determined to solve the new puzzle, as much as she was frustrated by its paradoxical complexity.

Janeway turned her attention to the repair report. She'd read the first sentence four times already and she still couldn't comprehend it. Flashes of the planet Gweelee, whose orbit Voyager had left only five days ago, still loomed large in her mind. The sweet communion she'd experienced with Seven and her daughter had awakened a need that she had long suppressed.

Now Captain Janeway had to treat her lover like just member of her crew. The feelings it churned were strong: it was like drinking boiling plasma. But she knew she had no one to blame but herself. Wasn't a crewmember deserving of a personal life? Wasn't the Captain a crewmember? Ergo....

And yet, the Captain stayed her announcement about her relationship to Seven of Nine. One reason was Chakotay, Seven's ex-lover, seemed particularly unstable. Until she understood him or he became himself, Janeway would not risk endangering her family.

So, here she sat watching the chronometer change its red numbers, one by one, until finally it read eleven hundred.

Captain Janeway slammed her station monitor closed and grabbed her coffee mug. Then she bounded for the door, skipping once for good measure.

_Hot damn_, Janeway thought.

The thought of a naked Borg in bed sent shivers down her spine. Since their return, Kathryn had only managed half a tryst with Seven. It was like getting a sip of coffee when you were accustomed to the entire damned carafe. But this wasn't forever, she told herself.

Just as the Ready Room door slid open, Janeway nearly fell headlong into the hulking wall of her First Officer. "Chakotay!" she said, stepping back.

"Captain, I was just coming to see you."

A small gurgle of protest rumbled in her throat.

"You have time for your First Officer, don't you?"

Her brows angled together. She felt a match of anger ignite in her belly. Even after Captain Janeway tamped it out, the smoke tried to choke out her common sense. Since returning to Voyager she'd had a hard time dealing with her own emotional flares. She thought it was just the pregnancy, but since not everyone could be pregnant on board, especially the men, she was starting to wonder if they were not all being manipulated by outside forces that had yet to be identified.

"Yes, of course." She was amazed she could keep her voice sounding so cool when her insides were so hot.

He tipped his head to one side. "Can I come in then?"

"I do however, have an important appointment," she said, stepping aside. She did not bother to follow him to the couches in her usual manner, instead remaining by the exit.

Chakotay raised an eyebrow and a look of annoyance flashed quickly in his eyes, as he stepped back down the stairs to stand near her. "I'll make this quick so you can get to...."

She gave him a scolding expression. The Captain wanted her good relationship with her First Officer to continue on its firm footing as before, yet she felt a resistance from him. This in turn gave her pause.

Chakotay was sufficiently respectful of her authority and her privacy, but there was this small space between them into which fell their mutual distrust and leery banter. The gap seemed to grow with each passing day.

"How can I help you, Commander?"

Chakotay handed her a padd, which she quickly scrolled through.

Twin lines etched themselves between her brows. "This is disturbing," she said, reluctantly walking back to lean against her desk. "Starfleet officers are brawling on board a ship."

"During their rotation, no less."

"Do you know why?"

"Of the five fights, two were related to simple disagreements about procedures. Two others were related to matters that were deeply personal."

"And the last?"

"Whether Voyager should settle in the Delta Quadrant or resume its course."

Janeway's bouncing knee bumped the padd as she considered the situation. "This doesn't sound like the crew."

"When Voyager was a floating paperweight in space, ship's supplies were low—The last six months weren't a vacation for some of us."

Janeway accepted the rebuke graciously, knowing that there could be many crewmembers who had adopted this view. It was another very good reason to keep her love affair with Seven under wraps.

"Tempers flared as we worked double and triple shifts. But now? I can't really explain it."

"Well, something's not right." She straightened herself. "I think we should begin our journey again by reaffirming our commitment to Starfleet standards and disciplines."

"You want to set an example?"

"Don't you think we should?"

She didn't trust his smirk, but he agreed. "I'll take care of it myself."

Captain Janeway marched to the door and was surprised to find that Chakotay hadn't followed. "Commander?"

"I have one more thing, Captain. I was just wondering if Seven had mentioned me at all to you."

_Ho boy!_ Captain Janeway stared at Chakotay for a moment. She'd had this same conversation with him every day for the past five days.

"Have you talked to Seven of Nine, Commander?"

"I've tried," he said. "But she just tells me our relationship was terminated and then she offers to explain what that means."

She dropped her head to quickly scratch over her eye. On the other hand, his prowling after Seven was the very good reason to announce they were lovers. The thought of Seven with anyone, man, woman or Ferengi was nearly too much to even contemplate.

But Janeway summed up impossible human strength and sounded nonchalant. "That sounds pretty clear to me."

She turned to go and the First Officer wrapped his large hand around her bicep. The Captain looked down at the restraining hand and then up at Chakotay. "Commander?"

"I didn't ask you if I understood her. I asked if she'd talked about me."

Captain Janeway lifted her chin a millimeter. Her negative reply was an exaggerated enunciation of two letters and she found it surprisingly difficult to divorce it from a flaunting smirk. "Perhaps you should ask some of her friends."

Chakotay's eyes went cold. "I did," he said. "They said the same thing. She's out of my life for good."

"There's your answer then."

"But I don't think she meant it," he said.

Captain Janeway took on the steely edge that was her trademark. "Well, I think we're done here."

His mind seemed to wander, even as his grip tightened.

"Commander? Release. Me."

"Oh, yes. Apologies, Captain."

=/\=

Kathryn Janeway pulled down her tunic as she entered Seven's quarters, across from her own. The main living area was dark and empty.

"Computer, locate Seven of Nine."

"_Seven of Nine is in her quarters."_

A lascivious grin curled Kathryn's lips as she hurried to the bedroom. The room was vacant, as was the connected ensuite.

She tossed her tunic on the couch and set her coffee mug on a table as she strode across the living area to find the smaller room that belonged to Dani. Seven was kneeling in the middle of the room. One arm was bearing stuffed animals, while the other was scooping up more including the beloved black cat "Silly Willy." Black padds lay strewn on the floor, along with dirty socks and shirts.

"Seven," Kathryn whispered. "What are you doing in here?"

Seven stood up, tossing the stuffed animals on an unmade twin bed. "You were overdue," she stated matter-of-factly. "It was more efficient to restore order to your daughter's bedroom than idle."

Kathryn reached out to take Seven's hand. She pulled her close, kissing the backs of her fingers. "I'm sorry, darling. But I'd rather have you wait in your bed." She pitched her voice lower, hands clasped behind the woman's neck. "Naked and ready for me."

Seven's arms remained at her side. "The last time I was _ready_ for you, I was recumbent in bed for nearly an hour. You did not keep your appointment."

Kathryn pursed her lips, her eyes softening in regret. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I just don't want to—I don't want even a moment together to be wasted, darling. Can you forgive me?"

Seven kissed Kathryn's lips lightly. "Yes," she said, taking Kathryn's hand at her neck and tugging the Captain through the door, across the living area and into to her bedroom. She spun Kathryn around, her back to the bed.

Seven's mouth descended on Kathryn's, as she held the woman's face between her hands. Her hands began to roam over the Captain's body, brushing the backs of her fingers over sensitive nipples. Soft sighs became throaty moans as Seven's hand reached the top of her lover's pants.

When she slipped her fingers inside the waistband of Kathryn's Starfleet issue panties, the woman groaned loudly. "Oh, that's it, baby! A little further now...."

Seven's other arm was wrapped around the woman's waist, as Kathryn lifted a foot onto the bed for easier access. She hugged Seven's descending hand, trying to shove it down further. "The bed, Seven," she whispered.

Seven nuzzled Kathryn's ear, flicking her tongue over it. "Very well," Seven said coolly, as if the passion weren't bubbling out of her. Without removing her hand from between Kathryn's legs, she gently pushed the woman back and then down on her bed.

"Take my pants off," Kathryn said.

Seven lifted her head enough to whisper. "That would be inefficient," she mumbled before settling down beside the woman. Her fingers nestled inside the honey depths, flexing and sparking rising moans in Kathryn.

The older woman's hips were thrusting upward and her head was shaking side to side with her eyes cinched tight. Her arms curled around Seven's back, with her fisted hands resting on her shoulder blades.

Seven deepened the kiss with Kathryn, timing the thrusts of her tongue to the strokes of her fingers. "You arrived prepared," Seven said softly, swirling her fingers inside the soaked woman.

"I'm so damn—Oh! That's it, darling. Right there—"

Seven rubbed the distended ridge of flesh that rippled with pleasure. She felt the woman beside her shudder in anticipation. "I do not wish this to end," Seven whispered, nearly smiling when she heard a moan from Kathryn.

"I've missed you," she whispered, rubbing Seven's back.

"And I you," Seven replied, teasing her lips close to Kathryn's. When the redhead would surge upward to try to capture them, Seven pulled back. "But I will require a demonstration of how much."

Kathryn threw her head back and moaned low and long. The veins along her neck corded from the cry. "I'm trying, darling!"

When she raised her gray eyes to regard Seven, the blonde kissed her lips lightly. "Attempt it with vigor," she ordered. "With as much effort as you exert to keep from regarding me during Senior Staff meetings."

Kathryn stopped rocking herself to find, for the first time, the bruises in the reflected in the Borg's eyes. "Oh, darling," she whispered. Kathryn tried to draw the woman closer. "I'm so sorry."

Seven allowed herself to be pulled closer to the woman, hiding her face in her neck. But she kept her fingers inside of Kathryn, pushing them in and out to remind her lover of the business at hand.

"Oh, Seven," she whispered into the woman's ear, gently. "I am so in love with you. I'm just—Oh, baby!"

A cry of release tore from her throat. It was joined a second later by a chirp and the ship's intercom announcing Janeway's name. _"Your presence needed on the bridge."_

Janeway's moans of release became sobs of frustration. "Dammit!" she wailed, wrapping an arm around Seven's neck. "Not again."

The Captain felt a tender kiss at her neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Seven lifted herself up, her hand slipping out of her lover. "You have apologized on three separate occasions in a span of a mere fifteen point two minutes."

Before their usual fight could start, Janeway jumped off the bed to catch the taller woman before she retreated to the ensuite. She kissed the woman tenderly and then whispered against her lips. "I'll see you at lunch?"

Seven patted the woman's ass, answering Janeway's unspoken emotion. "We will adapt, Pips."

=/\=

The lift doors slid open to reveal a deathly quiet bridge. A red-faced Neelix stood beside the command chair, holding the sharp tip of a tritanium meat cleaver to Chakotay's neck. "Stay where you are, Captain!"

"Neelix!" the Captain said, stepping onto upper level. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I said stop!" he said. "On second thought, go stand next to the helm where I can see you."

Janeway was close enough to see the sweat pouring down his spotted head. Chakotay seemed calm, which would not be unexpected. His life had been threatened incalculable times on away missions.

The Captain glanced around quickly, assessing the rest of the crew. Lt. Harry Kim was scowling at the little Talaxian. If the taut lines around his eyes and his fists were any indicator, he was about to cast his lot with his former Captain.

Lt. Enrique Ayala was at the helm, as a replacement for the ailing Tom Paris. He was a stocky male with dark hair and eyes, who could probably pass for Chakotay's kin. He was a Maquis and Captain Janeway had no doubt that he would have thrown her in the brig if Chakotay had not voluntarily stepped down as acting Captain of the U.S.S. Voyager. Ayala glanced once at Harry.

Lt. Commander Tuvok was at his security station, hacking up and coughing. Every time she saw the Vulcan, she was always shocked at the white curls sprouting out like wildfire on his head. His eyes appeared rheumy and hollow. Yet the Captain saw his trembling hand holding a phaser and knew he expected the worst. She nodded to him once before speaking.

"Computer, transfer all command functions to Main Engineering," Janeway ordered. "My authorization...Janeway Gamma Rho Lamda Seven." She stared right at Harry. "Misters Kim and Ayala. Please attend your duties in Engineering."

The angry match the Captain thought she smothered earlier re-ignited with a flinty spark when the two men regarded each other rather than obey. She could almost see the thoughts of mutiny cross their faces. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chakotay tip his head slightly before being nicked by the cleaver. The two men walked slowly off the bridge.

Captain Janeway turned icy eyes on Neelix. "Mister Neelix," she said calmly. "Why are you doing this?"

His bushy eyebrows rose and his beady eyes sparkled. "Why don't you ask Commander Chakotay?"

Janeway was disarmed briefly by the sneer. She had never encountered such a cynical tone from the lone Talaxian on board. It was the very anti-thesis of Talaxian culture.

"All right." Captain Janeway took a second forward. "Commander? Do you know why Mister Neelix is so clearly agitated?"

She watched the Commander closely. He was like a study in multiple personalities and this event was no exception. Janeway identified casual indifference, as if the little Talaxian was no threat. "Neelix believes I have...taken advantage of Ensign Wildman."

Janeway's suspicions were raised by his careful use of words. From his eyes darting left, rather right, and his lip-licking, Janeway's behavioral training said Commander Chakotay was lying. "Mister Neelix, is that a fair summary?"

"No," he replied curtly. "I don't _believe_ that. I know it!" He jabbed the cleaver tip into the commander's muscled neck. "Why don't you tell her the news, Commander?"

Janeway turned her attention from the shaking spotted hand to the Mayan. His features were contorted now by pain into a semblance of unmitigated fury. "What news?"

"Samantha is pregnant," he said through tight lips pulled painfully across his teeth.

Janeway allowed this startling revelation to wash over her. Ensign Wildman was the mother of one already, by her Ktarian husband, who remained in the Alpha Quadrant. Naomi, her daughter, was born during Voyager's first year of exile.

There was no way to soften the implications of the next question. No matter how she asked it, the woman would be perceived in a bad light. It was the cultural underpinnings of Janeway's own Terran heritage where the mere implication of asking who the father was implied the woman was a whore. Again, Janeway felt her anger flare at the injustice of language. Men could not defined as whores, nymphomaniacs or spinsters.

Janeway cleared her throat, wondering briefly why she couldn't control her thoughts lately. "I did not know that," she said quietly. "But I'm a little confused about—"

Neelix needled Chakotay again with the cleaver. "Tell her all of it, Commander." He spat the last word like it was a Haakonian poison.

Chakotay cleared his throat. "Mister Neelix," he said. "Don't you think you should leave Sam the dignity of making her own—?" Chakotay moaned slightly. A rivulet of red blood scurried down his neck to stain his Starfleet undershirt. "Easy, Neelix."

"Easy? How dare you! How dare you say that to me when you've just damaged Samantha's future with your thoughtless, careless screws!"

"Mister Neelix," the Captain chided. "Please. Let us not forget our decorum!"

"Oh, that's right," he sneered again. "Let's all turn a blind eye to the entire crew's mindless fucking. If we call it something less offensive—like '_little indiscretions_'—then they don't really count as obscene, do they?"

Janeway had heard the rumors, of course. Harry Kim was rumored to be bedding not one, but both Delaney sisters. Ric Ayala was bedding Crewman Dorado and Jarvis. As she quickly considered the rumors in context, she realized that the wider implications would have to be managed sooner rather than later. Then she wondered if that was the reason the Doctor had summoned her again to sick bay.

She shoved these disconcerting thoughts behind her. "Mister Neelix," she said quietly again. Janeway took one more step closer. "I know how fond you are of Samantha Wildman."

"Fond?" Neelix twisted his lips. "I _love_ her, Captain! But she chooses _him_? And what has he done? She's pregnant with his child. Just like Ensign Gilmore and Lieutenant Fernandez. And those are the ones I know about."

The Captain turned wide eyes on the Commander. He'd always been an honorable man, taking great pride in the Mayan traditions of family. But this was a disgusting display of Cro-Magnon macho bullshit. And when she thought of Chakotay chasing Seven, Janeway thought she would spontaneously combust from the sheer fury. And the jealousy!

The Captain knew she had failed to hide the fury when—despite the point in his neck—he turned a fraction to wonder at her reaction.

With consummate poise, Captain Janeway tugged her tunic down. "Neelix," she said, tipping her head. "Hurting Commander Chakotay will not bring you what you want."

Neelix laughed scornfully. It was such a shockingly uncharacteristic sound for the gentle Talaxian it made Janeway's stomach lurch.

"What do you know about what I want?"

She smiled sadly. "Because you want what we all want. You want to love someone. To be loved in return. But hurting Chakotay will only alienate Sam from your affections, Neelix."

The mention of the blonde beauty nearly melted Neelix on the spot. His hand began to shake violently and he dropped the cleaver. In that instant, Chakotay bolted upright. His meaty fist pounded Neelix's cheek, sending the little alien across the bridge to land on the floor with a whirling twist.

"Stand down, Commander!" the Captain ordered.

Before Chakotay could follow through on a kick of the Talaxian, Commander Tuvok's phaser stabbed his back. "That is inadvisable, Commander Chakotay."

Chakotay shook his right hand out. "He's probably had enough," he growled.

Janeway stepped up to him, blasting him with an angry glare. "You are relieved, Commander!"

"I'm not relieved," he replied. "But Neelix should be." The man then tipped the Talaxian with the point of his boot.

"One more move and I will throw you in the brig myself, mister!" Janeway hissed.

He smirked at her. It was one she'd never seen, not until a few days ago. Now it was a customary mask for him. "Permission to retire to my quarters?"

"Get out!" she said with a sharp edge. "But this isn't over for you."

He rolled his head and cracked his shoulders as he strolled leisurely off the bridge.

Janeway touched her combadge. "Janeway to sick bay!"

"_Doctors here!"_ The words were spoken in stereo by the two competing holograms.

"Doctor, Mister Neelix needs medical attention. I'm enabling a site-to-site emergency transport. Prepare for him."

"_Aye, Captain,"_ came the stereo reply.

=/\=

Kathryn glanced at the chronometer as she walked into sickbay. Her stomach growled and she took a long sip of coffee. It was nearly time for a planned "accidental" lunch with Seven in the Mess hall. But she'd wanted to check on Neelix.

Sickbay was already close to being fully operational. All of the biobeds had been restored, even after the increase in patients spiked over the last week. The black streaks of phaser fire were scrubbed clean and the wires were all safely stashed behind washed bulkheads and replaced panels. It was almost pristine, except for the small scratches, the occasional dings and the discoloration that comes with age.

Neelix was lying on a biobed at the far end. The two holographic doctors loomed over the quiet Talaxian.

"How are you feeling, Mister Neelix?" the Captain asked, sidling up to the one she thought of as her Doctor.

The Talaxian looked up forlornly and sighed. "You should have let him kill me, Captain."

"Gentlemen," she said, trying to get the Doctors attention. "May I have a word privately with Neelix?"

When they were alone, Janeway placed her hand on Neelix' shoulder, leaning into it. She knew Talaxians could display extreme emotions, but she'd never seen it in Neelix. "How did you find out about Sam and Chakotay?"

The man blinked his wet eyes furiously, as he stared up at the ceiling. "I walked in on them this morning, Captain," he whispered. "I knew Sam wasn't feeling well so I decided to bring her breakfast, after Naomi was off at school. I let myself in...." Neelix looked at the Captain abruptly. "I've never taken advantage of Samantha. I would never presume...." His eyes tore back upward. "But that doesn't mean I hadn't thought about...making love to her. She's such a sweet, sweet soul."

Janeway squeezed his shoulder. "So you saw the two—?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "Naked as two Talaxian Fritter monkeys. That's when I started to add things up. She'd asked me to watch Naomi a lot more than usual...which I didn't mind! She was vomiting at all hours and she was...giddy...when the Commander was even in the same room." Neelix shrugged, as he started to rub the backs of his hairy hands. "Kes was my life. When she left, I thought I would vanish into nothingness. But Samantha was just so easy to be around. She was my new best friend."

"Oh, Neelix, I'm sorry this has all happened."

"I know why she didn't tell me," he said pensively.

"Why?"

"Because everyone knows about the string of women he keeps. The man's a—"

"Neelix, I know it's hard to imagine, but you'll survive this, too." She needed her mind clear of gossip so she could get down to the facts.

"I don't want to survive, Captain."

"Do you know how disheartening it is to hear that the ship's Morale Officer has lost his own morale?" She gave a patented crooked Janeway grin, one he found hard to resist, though Neelix tried.

"That would be bad, wouldn't it?"

"Like a chef without taste buds."

"Or a Talaxian without hope."

Janeway smiled faintly. "Just remember, Neelix, that we do not stand alone. We are in the arms of family." Even as the words left her lips, she could almost feel Seven's arms around her waist, Seven's lips on hers. She could feel Dani's arms around her neck, her loud laughter in her ear. Suddenly a need so primal gripped her and she had to see Seven of Nine and their child.

"The traditional Prixin greeting," Neelix said. "My favorite holiday to celebrate family. Thank you, Captain."

"Even the Morale Officer needs a morale boost once in a while." She patted his arm. "You'll take care of yourself then?"

"How can I not? I forgot I have more than 500 family members aboard."

"That's the spirit!" she said, patting his shoulder.

Captain Janeway strode past the two doctors conversing. She noted quickly their discussion displayed a semblance of civility that was lacking in most other interactions on board lately. As she swooshed by, the Captain heard one of the Doctors call to her.

Without turning, she waved over her shoulder. "I'll be by later. We can talk then."

"But Captain!" came the reply. "I have some disturbing results."

Janeway pivoted at the door, watching one of the identical EMH's urgently waving a padd at her. "One more hour won't make any meaningful difference, Doctor."

Despite the indignant arch of four identical brows, she marched to the exit. "I need some with you, as well. But later."

"What choice do we have?"

=/\=

Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres shoveled another spoonful of potato salad while she used a chicken drumstick to point at Captain Janeway who just stepped into the Mess Hall.

"There she is," she said, around a mouthful. "Look at her, Tom."

Her husband, Lt. Tom Paris looked up from his chicken noodle soup to eye her. "Yeah, so?"

"So? Can't you see it?"

They both watched as Janeway methodically searched the room, beginning with the line of people waiting for the food replicators that had gone online unexpectedly because Neelix was in sickbay.

"She's looking for someone."

"Of course, she is. Who wants to sit alone?"

B'Elanna shook her head. "That's not what I mean." She took another bit of the chicken, slowly chewing it while she watched Captain Janeway walk casually over to the table occupied by Seven of Nine.

Tom looked up, the spoon poised to his mouth. "She was looking for her daughter."

"Does the Captain look like she's gained weight?"

Tom gave her a reproving look. "You don't think I'm really _that_ stupid, do you?"

B'Elanna glanced back at him, the drumstick slipping down. "Her cheeks are...puffy, as is her middle. But that's the thing. She never eats. She just drinks coffee."

"You know, now that you mention it, the Captain looks...exactly as she always did. That's my official opinion as a man and I'm sticking to it. So help me God."

B'Elanna frowned, as if that were a minor point. "But it's more than that...." She spoke louder, trying to drown out her husband's unwanted commentary. "I don't think I've ever seen her look happy. I mean, really, truly happy."

"It's the tan," he said with a mouthful of soup.

"Another thing, have you ever noticed that she and Seven never speak to each other?"

"Sure they do," he said, glancing down at a crossword puzzle he was working on. "In senior staff meetings all the time."

"No, I don't mean that. I mean, when they're out and about."

Tom looked up with a pained expression. "Didn't you just comment about how odd it is for the Captain to sit with Seven?"

"Yes, but—"

"I think you are reading too much into things."

"Like Chakotay?"

"Oh, no. He's definitely up to something." Tom took his wife's hand, kissing her knuckles. "But he'll have to get through me before he even thinks about hurting you."

"Hmm," she said quietly. She leaned over and kissed his lips. "I think your color looks better today."

"You're just saying that because you want to get laid."

"Maybe."

=/\=

Seven of Nine waited quietly in the corner. They had only been aboard Voyager for nearly a week and she was beginning to feel the same stirrings of loneliness she felt when she was first severed from the Borg. Like the myriad of voices in her head, Seven had grown accustomed to Kathryn's nearness, not just physical but emotional. To make matters worse, the loneliness was interfering with her efficiency in her ship duties. That was intolerable.

Seven felt her heart flutter when she saw Captain Janeway sweep into the room. It was a disconcerting sensation because she knew empirically that her heart rate remained unchanged. From her vast research—more than fifty gigaquads of data—culled from twenty- and twenty-first century romance novels, Seven identified her feelings as love and desire. What confused her was the swirling tinge of lust accompanying each and every casual encounter with Kathryn during their duty shifts. Was lust not a masculine trait? Was it a prelude to jealousy? Could lust and love coexist?

The questions vanished as she watched Kathryn wave to a few crewmembers on her way to the table. The Captain looked tired, Seven noted, as the woman sat down across from her, setting her mug down purposefully.

"Hello, Seven." Her tone was professional, but Seven caught the gleam in her eye that belied more. "Where is our firstborn?"

Seven nodded in the direction of the replicator. "Eridani retrieves dessert."

Janeway shook her head, as she laughed softly. "I should have known!" She looked down at the plate before her. "Thank you for taking care of me—"

"Thanks are not required," Seven replied. "I am rewarded in other ways."

Janeway offered Seven a rakish grin. Seven felt herself blanch.

"I believe I have misspoken, Captain."

"Just watch it, Seven of Nine." Kathryn leaned forward, pointing a fork at her lover. "I don't want to have to _debrief_ you over the entire matter."

Seven looked around and then back. "I will not _resist_ your authority."

"I'll bet," she whispered.

Seven saw the light drain from the Captain's eyes. "Are you damaged?"

She looked down and cut herself a piece of meat. Without looking up, she answered Seven in a quiet voice. "I just witnessed Tom take B'Elanna's hand and kiss her." She took a deep breath. "Right here in the crowded Mess hall."

Seven shifted in her chair. "This disturbs you because it is a violation of Starfleet regulations."

Janeway looked up, her fork poised mid-air. "If it is, then I want to violate some regulations also."

"May I assume you would flagrantly disobey regulations for—?"

"For you, Andy." Janeway's whisper was audible only to Seven's Borg-enhanced hearing.

"That could be easily remedied, Captain. Shall I sit in your lap?"

Janeway slowly raised her eyes. Seven noted they were stony. She felt irritated at the situation as well, especially since it could be so easily rectified. "You may announce our—"

"Don't say it! Please...!" Janeway closed her eyes. "I don't want to fight. Not after what we just did an hour ago. Not when we have so little time together." Janeway looked at her lover. "You promised me you'd be patient."

Seven knew this disagreement to be a large black hole and she felt powerless. Janeway loved Voyager more than anything and no amount of data would alter that. "You are correct," Seven finally conceded flatly.

"I am?"

Seven lifted her chin a millimeter. "The practice of patience will serve me well."

Janeway couldn't suppress a crooked grin, though Seven could tell she tried. "I'm just a little surprised you would comply so easily. The Borg are not usually known for their patience."

"In normal circumstances, the Borg take what they want. I now have what I want." She wanted to say more, so much more but this was not the correct time index for such indulgences. Before Janeway could respond, Seven added: "Your daughter approaches."

Dani set down a plate covered in chocolate and sweets.

"Hi Cap!" Dani didn't bother to pull out her chair. Instead she wedged herself in, one leg halfway off the side. She made short order of cutting a piece of chocolate cake that she now held centimeters from her mouth.

"Did you leave any sweets for anyone else?"

"I love replicators." Dani's mouthful of chocolate was evident. "But don't tell you Geegee."

"I believe," Seven said. "Your Grandmother Gretchen would be alarmed not only by this admission but your appalling table manners."

"Huh?"

"Eridani." Seven sighed, as if summoning a well of patience. "Please do not speak when you are masticating biomatter."

Janeway hid her grin behind her cup when Dani sighed heavily in return. "So, Dani, what did you do this morning?"

Dani held up her hand as she took a long pull of milk before taking another bite of food. "We went to the zoo," she said without any enthusiasm.

"The zoo?" Janeway's face lit up, looking to Andy for elaboration.

"Ensign Zayra Cabot arranged to take the children to the zoo, a program written by Lt. Paris."

"Ensign Cabot?"

"Yes, she is currently assigned to the Operations Division as a technician. But I am uncertain why she volunteered as an instructor today when Ensign Wildman would have been a more suitable choice as an xenobiologist."

"Perhaps Ensign Cabot needed a break from ablative hull repairs." Janeway watched Dani polish off the rest of her dessert. "Did you enjoy your day, sweetheart?"

Dani swallowed hard and looked at Kathryn. "The holodeck isn't real, Cappie."

"C'mon on!" Janeway swung an arm to pat her daughter's shoulder. "Wasn't there just one thing you liked?"

Dani smiled at her mother's expectant grin. "Mezoti fell into the gorilla pit."

"What?!" cried both mothers. They both sat rigid in their chairs as if hearing their own personal red alert.

"Were the safety protocols engaged?" Cappie asked.

"Um, Mezoti can take care of herself, Cap." Seven heard the unspoken censure, namely that Captain Janeway and her Borg mother—of all others—should understand what a Borg child is capable of.

"How did she do that, exactly?" Janeway asked.

Dani stared at Janeway's uneaten lunch. "Hey Cap? Can I have the rest of your meatloaf?"

Both mothers blinked at her empty plate.

"Well? Can I?"

Janeway pushed her half eaten lunch toward her daughter, carefully avoiding Seven's disapproving look.

"You must have had quite a day to be so hungry."

Dani used her fork to cut the meat.

"Do continue about Mezoti."

Dani halted her hand in mid-cut and sniffed at Janeway. Seven recognized the pattern between the two, but Janeway always seemed to get caught off guard by it.

Dani resumed cutting her meat as she spoke. "She changed her arm into a buzz saw. It was really cool."

"She didn't...she didn't kill it?" Janeway asked with a hard swallow. "Did she?"

Dani frowned. "No, Ensign Cabot deleted the gorilla."

"Good thinking." Janeway finally sat back against the chair.

Dani shrugged as she smothered a piece of meat with mashed potatoes. A faint smile touched her lips as she stuffed it into her mouth.

Seven tapped the table. "Did you assimilate any knowledge, Eridani?"

Dani nodded. "I think I'm going to miss Spiro way-lots more than I thought."

"Why is that?"

"Because he always had a good idea."

Janeway laughed softly. "Yes, I remember his _good_ ideas. I don't believe dropping ice chips on people from the roof was fun for anyone." Janeway leaned across the table to tap Dani's arm lightheartedly. "Least of all you."

"Whoever did that never got caught because the evidence melted." Dani narrowed her eyes at Janeway in challenge.

Seven watched as Kathryn studied the girl for a moment before finally smiling. She was relieved that her lover would not pursue a confrontation today.

Kathryn took a swallow of coffee. "You're absolutely right, Dani. I'm sorry I suggested you and Spiro were behind it."

Dani relaxed and smiled again at Cappie. "Anyway, that's what I learned. That I'll miss my best-est friend ever."

"Have you made friends among the other Borg children or Naomi?"

The smile vanished as quickly as it came. "They don't like me." The whisper was so small, her parents had to lean in to hear it.

"What is your hypothesis based on?" her Borg mother asked.

Dani shrugged. "They don't ever want to do the same things I do."

Before her mothers could continue the interrogation, a girl with long sandy brown hair and spikes along the center of her forehead came to stand next to their table. She looked at each of them in turn.

Seven offered her customary greeting of saying the girl's full name.

"Hi Seven. Captain Janeway."

"Good afternoon, Miss Wildman."

Seven pulled out a chair beside her. "Would you care to join us?"

Naomi nodded once and sat down across from Dani. "I ate already, but yes, I'd like that." She tipped her head and looked straight at Dani. "Hello, Eridani."

The corners of Dani's mouth pulled back in a pained smile. "Hi." Her answer was Borg-like in her lack of emotions. Dani took another bite of meatloaf.

Janeway leaned back, took a gulp of coffee and then grimaced. She lifted her eyes to see an amused Seven quirking a brow. "My coffee's cold now."

"Indeed," Seven said. "Has the Doctor recommended a reduction in your intake of caffeine?"

Janeway opened her mouth but before she could say anything, Naomi filled the gap. "My mom had to stop drinking coffee when she was having me. My heart had eight chambers and the caffeine made it beat too fast." Then she looked at the Captain. "But she won't have to with the new baby because he's more human than Ktarian."

Dani perked up. "Why isn't he half Ktarian like you?"

"My mom said genetics are just probabilities really."

Dani stared at the girl for a moment, her brows knitted together. "I thought your dad wasn't on Voyager."

"Oh, he's not. I've never met him."

Dani closed an eye, as she regarded the girl from the sideways in an expression of growing confusion. "So then how—?"

"Oh," Naomi said with a matter-of-fact wave of the hand. "Mom said she banked my father's sperm—"

"Stop!" Janeway said, ducking her head at her own volume. Then she whispered: "I think this discussion is a little out of bounds, girls."

"Why?" Naomi asked.

Janeway blinked for a second. Involuntarily, her eyes skidded over to Seven's. Seven noticed Janeway usually had difficulty balancing being the Captain with being a parent. It had not been a problem on Gweelee when she did not have to choose roles.

Seven leaned forward to speak to the girls. "Because sexual reproduction is a personal matter."

"Yes, exactly," Janeway agreed. "A very personal matter."

"Is that why I can't tell anyone about—?"

"Yes!" Janeway hissed. "That's exactly why."

"You have promised, Eridani," Seven said with a raise of a human brow and a Borg implant.

Dani scowled and sat back away from the table.

"Naomi," Janeway said, leaning back again after giving Dani a reprimanding look. "I understand you had quite the excursion at the zoo."

"It was okay," she agreed. "But Eridani is correct."

"Can you call me Dani?" the strawberry blonde asked with frown.

"Seven calls you Eridani."

"Seven's my mother. You're not."

"Dani sounds like a _boy's_ name."

Dani's mouth drew into a line. "Well, Naomi sounds like a...a...a _pus_ hog's name!"

"Dani!" both her mothers shrieked.

Naomi opened her mouth and her eyes became watery. "I think I should go." She wiped both eyes with the back of her hand as she darted away.

"Eridani." Seven's voice was deep. "That was inappropriate and hurtful."

Seven did not understand how Dani's mouth could part as if in open shock about the deserved censure.

"And rude," Janeway added.

Dani gestured with an open hand to the empty seat. "But...but...she started it! You heard her!"

"Regardless," Janeway added, shaking her head. "Tonight you will offer her an apology."

"Why isn't saying my name belongs to boy's rude and hurtful, too?"

"Your remark was malicious," Seven explained.

Dani sunk into her chair, crossed her arms and glowered at both mothers. "So was hers," she muttered, using her thumb to push the plate away. "I'm done."

Janeway put a warm hand on her daughter's arm. "Hold on, Dani," she said. "I think we need to talk about something else."

"Now what?"

"I am ordering you not to talk about the baby."

Dani's face contorted to rage, taking the Captain by surprise. "I will comply, _Captain Janeway_." She stood up so fast the chair almost tipped back, but she caught it with her fingertips. "May I be excused?"

Seven tipped her entire body slightly to look at the chair. "It is customary to ask permission _before_ one rises from the table, not after."

Dani lets out an exasperated huff and threw herself into the chair. "May I please be excused _now_?"

Seven nods once, a satisfied expression on her face. "Very well," she said. "After you have kissed us, you may leave."

Dani pinched her face. "I don't...." The words evaporated from her lips, as she saw her Borg mother raise her ocular implant a millimeter in disapproval. She stood up. "Okay." She offered Seven the customary kiss on the lips and then hesitated with Captain Janeway.

The Captain curled an arm around the girl's waist. "What's the matter? Getting too big to kiss your Cappie?"

Dani leaned down and pecked her mother's lips as quickly as she could. But Janeway didn't release her. Instead, she took her daughter's hand and raised it to her lips. After she kissed it, Kathryn said: "I love you, Dani."

The Captain smiled crookedly when Dani's face softened.

"Me, too," she mumbled.

As the couple watched their daughter exit hastily from the Mess, Kathryn switches seats to come along side Seven. "Sometimes I don't understand her reactions."

"She is quite illogical," Seven replied. "Both the Doctor and Tuvok have indicated that is the customary state of eight-year-old females."

"I think there's an insult for every women in that comment."

"Yet it is accurate. But I do not believe it is the sole reason for Eridani's petulance." She hoped that Janeway would inquiry of her own free will about their daughter's mood swings.

Seven hid her disappointment when Janeway stood up. "I'm going to get more coffee. Would you like something else?"

"What I would like and what I may have are differential, Captain Janeway."

It damaged Seven to see the pain flare in her lover's eyes. Unfortunately, that was the only stimulus that some had time to answer.

"Look, Seven," Janeway whispered. "There's a lot going on right now. But I shouldn't have to tell you this."

"Eridani is experiencing a great deal of difficulty in her transition on the ship. I should not be required to inform you of this."

Janeway looked up, turning after Seven stood to meet her. "I know that, Seven. I really do. I'm doing the best I can to juggle it all right now."

"I am able to assist you. But you must accept it."

Janeway's gaze softened. "I know." She took a half step, but stopped. Without turning back, Janeway added: "It always comes back to our first and only argument. Doesn't it?"

"I am now aware that I will require more than patience during our transition." When Janeway glanced back, Seven added: "Serenity and compassion."

"What about trust?"

"That is implicit."

Janeway lowered her head and breathed in deeply. "Thank you, Seven. I'll see you later."


	2. Boiling Over

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. They keep me going. **

**Update: 5-10-10: I goofed and misnamed Mortimer Harren. The original name posted was wrong.  
**

**Quantum of Chaos**

Chapter 2: Boiling Over

"Could you repeat that, Doctor?" Captain Janeway's voice gave an uneven crack.

The Doctor looked down again at his padd, holding it at arm's length as if he were growing far-sighted with age. "You're acting surprised." He looked up at Janeway through his dark, heavy brows.

"No, not at all." She knew her answers were clipped and sharp. It was entirely too easy to unleash her frustrations on the Emergency Medical Hologram. "I am not acting, Doctor. I had no idea that so many female crewmembers had stopped using birth control."

The Doctor's unmasked censure surprised her, so she added: "I don't make it a general practice to pry into personal lives unless it directly affects the ship."

"I see," he said, crossing his arms. "I suppose that converting Voyager to a generational ship is just a trifle."

Janeway slowly faced the Doctor, a poisonous glare warping her features. Since returning to the ship, Janeway's insides were starting to feel like a volcano, erupting with fury without due notice and all she could do was hold up an umbrella until it passed.

The Doctor's callous remark poured oil onto the conflagration of an old wound. The decision to destroy the Caretaker's array nearly seven years ago had become a festering gash inside of her. It would close and scab over on occasion. But it would never completely heal—not until Janeway delivered her crew safely to the Alpha Quadrant.

The throbbing, inflamed wound reminded her that they were still thirty thousand light years from home, despite their Herculean efforts. After more than six years, even traveling forty-five thousand light years just wasn't good enough. Janeway had fallen short of the most important goal of her lifetime. And they all knew it.

The Doctor had never been this cruel before…. Janeway narrowed her eyes and worked her jaw. "Which Doctor are you?"

He looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I'm the Emergency Medical Hologram, of course."

Janeway rolled her eyes. "Be. Specific. Are you EMH Senior or Junior?"

His features contorted. "What a ridiculous question, Captain? Really! Does it matter at—?"

"When did you go online, Doctor?"

"I'm insulted!"

"Computer, give the time index of when this Emergency Medical Hologram was first initiated." The answer made the muscles of Janeway's jaw line jump. "Where is Senior?"

The Doctor seemed to freeze, as he returned her stare.

"Computer, locate Emergency Medical Hologram activated on stardate 48308.2."

"The Emergency Medical Holographic program remains in the transporter pattern buffers."

"Computer, deactivate the EMH in sickbay." That Doctor vanished, his mouth open and his eyes wide. "Transfer the EMH from the pattern buffers to sickbay and materialize."

Captain Janeway watched the shimmering lights and then the Doctor stood before her. "Where am I?"

"It's all right, Doctor," she said. "You're in sickbay."

"How long have I been gone?"

"The Computer says two hours. Can you tell me what you were doing when you disappeared?"

The Doctor stepped outside his office, pivoting around to examine the empty sickbay. "I can tell you exactly what I was doing. I was arguing with my _esteemed_ colleague."

"About what?"

"About everything! The man is an insufferable, egotistical bore!"

Janeway held up her hands. "Hold on, Doctor," she said. "Let's just take this one step at a time. What was the discussion?"

He took a needless breath. "We were reviewing crew pregnancy rates."

"Yes, I got that part from him. Did you disagree about anything specific?"

"Disagree? We disagree about everything—!"

"Doctor," she said as calmly as she could muster against the molten lava flow stirring her own agitation. "Please. Let's focus on each piece."

"Very well. Over the past several days, female crew members have been reporting to sickbay with feelings of nausea, vomiting and a general malaise."

Janeway held her own middle. "I can certainly relate to those symptoms."

"Just as you'd suspect, the crew members turned up pregnant. There are forty-four known pregnancies on board."

"Forty-four! That's more than half the female crew!"

"Forty-five, if we count you."

She didn't need that reminder. It was one loose end she didn't have the energy to sort out, not with so many other variables on board. "What happened to the birth control protocols?"

"According to _him_, the crew declined—"

"Him being who? Junior?"

"I don't like that name for him, Captain. He most certainly is not my child. He is not anything like me."

"Despite the visual similarity."

He nodded once, his mouth a prim line.

"So we have forty-five pregnancies all due when?"

"By my calculations all are due within the next seven to nine months."

Seven to nine months? Janeway closed her eyes. The logistics pouring across her visual centers were like neon signs. More crewmembers would have to be trained in medical procedures, in the event the babies decided to make their grand appearance together. Nurseries would be needed. Volunteers would be needed to staff the nurseries. Duty shift changes would have to be made until the mothers returned to work. They were pushing the upper limits to the ships occupancy capacity. They'd need more of everything: air, food, water, energy and space.

This at a time when the U.S.S. Voyager's main systems were marginally operational. The lingering damage from the Ket'zali attack could take months to repair. This was just to give them enough helm control as they traversed this bizarre unclassified nebula. To bring the warp engine's back online, they would need to repair the warp field generator and the power transfer grid. They'd have to replace the antimatter relays and find a new source of dilithium crystals.

On top of that, the crew desperately needed a diversion, especially those who've been working around the clock for the past six months.

"How did this happen?"

The Doctor looked grimly at her. "Was that a rhetorical question, Captain?"

She chuckled and grimaced. "Yes, it was, I suppose. But what is happening here, Doctor?"

"That's what we were arguing about. My colleague suggested it was a simple response to being under the threat of extinction."

"Like the baby boom of the late Twentieth Century."

"Exactly," he said, pulling up some statistics at his workstation. "World War Two and the economic collapse triggered the biological imperative to reproduce, what history knows at the Baby Boom generation."

"Are you saying that our own exile may have triggered something?"

He shrugged. "It's a possibility, as I conceded to him. But there's more."

The Captain leaned against the wall, as the Doctor hopped around his desk, pushing padds and tricorders around. "Ah, here it is." He scrolled down a padd to the pertinent part, handing it to Janeway.

Her thumb continued to scroll down the statistics. "What am I looking at? All of it are just numbers by month."

"Those are the numbers of men who have reported to sickbay for treatment from altercations with other men," he said. "The trend is increasing."

She tapped the padd against her forearm, remembering Chakotay's report this morning about some fights. "What's causing the belligerence?"

"Physically we can find nothing, but sociologically...."

"What?" Her tone was more acerbic than she knew it should be.

"They're fighting over available women, Captain."

She stopped, rolled her eyes and threw her arms up. "Oh, that's right," she said. "We've just de-evolved from high-order beings into rutting stags. And that's perfectly fine."

"I was merely explaining the theory."

The Captain ran a hand through her hair. "No, I apologize, Doctor," she finally said. "It's been one helluva week." She lifted her chin. "Chakotay had a different theory. He said the arguments that he was aware of were about leadership—Maquis or Starfleet."

"The reasons are not really relevant," he replied. "That fact remains that the statistics of violence are trending upward at a sharp angle—regardless of cause."

Janeway felt suddenly queasy and she steadied herself on the bulkhead.

"Have you eaten?" The Doctor pulled out a medical tricorder, passing it over the Captain's body.

He smiled faintly at her disapproving glare of the tricorder. "You know, Captain. Since you're here I should get a baseline of your vitals and other stats so I can track your pregnancy."

She held up a hand. "We can't do that. I promised Seven I'd include her and she's—"

"The Doctor to Seven of Nine."

"_Seven of Nine here, Doctor."_

"Seven, please report to sickbay immediately. There is a certain check up that Captain Janeway mentioned to you that I will conduct now."

"_I am on my way."_

"I can't believe you have no compunction about pulling rank on me."

He led her to a biobed and pulled the privacy screen. "I suppose it's true what they say: 'Familiarity breeds contempt.'"

She shook her head after returning his padd. "Computer, give the current EMH in sickbay full authority to review, alter and deactivate the second EMH program. Remove those permissions from the second EMH program. Authorization Janeway Lambda Theta Alpha Seven Eridani."

"_Permissions complete."_

"What are you suggesting, Captain? That Junior's…" The Doctor frowned at the moniker. "…That he's been compromised in some way?"

"Six months ago I would have said no. But now, given that no one seems to be operating within normal parameters—present company excluded, of course—I want to make sure you have the advantage."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. But I am surprised and I know I shouldn't be," he said, carefully closing the tricorder. "I've been altered more times than a cheap holo novel."

"He assaulted you, Doctor."

"I can't believe that, Captain. We disagreed and in the heat of the argument he disabled my program. It was—"

"Assault."

"But he has ethical parameters!"

"Yours were disabled once."

The Doctor actually flushed at the memory of when he'd almost maimed Seven of Nine after they were imprisoned aboard the U.S.S. Equinox. Captain Ransom had indeed deleted his ethical subroutines. "I don't know what is guiding him, but I want to get to the bottom of this. It almost suggests that the wave of aggression has an inorganic cause."

"I need answers, Doctor and I have very few crew members whom I can rely on."

"What's the plan?"

"First, I want you to review Junior's program for alterations and embellishments."

"I really wish you'd stop calling him Junior."

"Then give me a name, dammit!"

Before she could apologize, Janeway heard the sickbay doors slide open. She expected to see the aloof loveliness of her lover. Instead, she was greeted by a green-faced Lieutenant Tom Paris who sauntered in.

Tom leaned against an arm he'd propped on the biobed. "Hi, Captain Janeway," he drawled.

Her gaze softened. "Hello, Tom. You're looking…"

Only then did she see the unnatural coloration of his skin. Captain Janeway had to suppress a gasp, as the scientist in her immediately reached for reasonable explanations. She peered up at the overhead lighting.

"There's nothing wrong with the florescence of this room, Captain," the Doctor said. "The man is green."

"I'd say I'm an Orion slave," Tom said impishly. "But I have too much hair." An emerald-tinted hand raked through his thinning blond hair. "But not for long. Do you care to wager about the date my last follicle falls out?"

Janeway felt a pang of sorrow, just as powerful an eruption as the fury that seemed always near the surface.

"Oh, c'mon, Captain! Don't look at me thataway!" He crossed his arms.

"I'm sorry, Tom."

"And don't apologize, for chrissakes! There are worse things than being green. Being dead, for one."

Janeway's eyes grew slightly wider. She thought her expression was neutral. "I'm sorry, Tom," she replied. "Please tell me you feel better than you look."

He pushed up his sleeve to reveal needle marks in the crook of his arm. "I'd feel better if my treatments were less barbaric than a goddamned IV every three hours." Tom ran a finger over the bumps of the needle punctures and then his eyes darted up. "I apologize for the language, Captain."

"It's all right," she replied. "If anyone has the right to swear, it's someone tethered to a bag of nutrients."

"I am grateful to Dr. Gräfenberg," he said with a flourish to the EMH. "I know I looked a lot worse before he showed up."

"Dr. Gräfenberg?" Janeway smiled at the name as wide eyes turned on the holographic doctor.

"I told you, Mister Paris," the Doctor hissed, as he gestured for the man to occupy another biobed. "I don't like that name."

Captain Janeway heard Tom chuckle and saw the bouncing of his shoulders as he hopped up. "It sounds like a perfectly reasonable name," Janeway replied.

The Doctor ran a medical tricorder over his prone patient. "It's a ridiculous name."

"Dr. Ernst Gräfenberg," Tom said, stacking his hands under his head and crossing his legs at the ankle.

"It has _gravitas_, Doctor," Janeway added.

The Doctor looked up, stopping in mid scan. "Do you know what Dr. Gräfenberg is _noted_ for?"

"No, I can't say that I recall, but it has a nice ring to it. In fact," she added helpfully, "it's Teutonic, like your original creator Zimmerman."

The hologram harrumphed. "Have you heard of the G-spot?"

Janeway choked down a laugh, as she shared an impish grin with Tom Paris. "I vaguely remember it," she lied. Suddenly her mind was replaying her first half-tryst with Seven on board Voyager. Seven of Nine lay on the mattress, her long, sumptuous legs were splayed provocatively. Kathryn's entire hand was inside the moaning woman, flexing her walls. The memory of her lover's whimpering climax nearly thumped her own heart right out of her chest.

A single throb between her legs brought the Captain back to a droning Doctor.

"—After years of debate, science shows it's not a 'spot' but merely an extension of the clitoris. This is interesting in itself because the clitoris has long been considered a vestigial organ very much like the appendix—"

"Doctor!" she hissed, closing her eyes. "Thank you, but no thank you, on this fascinating discussion."

"I am surprised to find your lack of interest—" he said haltingly, as he registered the imminent matter-antimatter explosion in her glare. The Doctor quickly took up the tricorder to re-scan Lt. Paris. "In any event, I refuse to be named after a gynecologist. The man's sole legacy—"

"I'm insulted, Doctor," Janeway said. "Gynecology is a perfectly respectable field that serves half of all binary populations, which represent the majority in the Federation."

"Oh, I don't mean it that way," he snapped.

"What was his legacy?" Tom asked. "Exactly."

The EMH smiled sarcastically, glancing nervously at the Captain. "I'm not going there again, Mister Paris. Suffice it to say, he was noted for developing a form of birth control and understanding the inner workings of the female reproductive system."

"My kinda guy," Tom replied.

"You're incorrigible," the Captain said, indulging the Lieutenant with a crooked smile.

"The answer is no!" The Doctor crossed his arms. "I will not be referred to behind my back as Dr. G-spot!"

Tom barked a hoarse laugh. "I had no intention of—"

"Yes, you most certainly would!" the Doctor accused.

"—Of letting you even _know_ that's what we'd call you, Dr. G."

Janeway did a poor job of suppressing her smile, allowing the mirthful chuckle to serve its morale boosting purpose. "I suppose we can just keep a running list of names for him."

With a poised needle in hand, the Doctor took a moment to glare at the pair. He touched the needle to Tom's skin and pushed it into a vein.

"That hurt, Doc!"

"Pain is what separates the men from the boys, Mr. Paris," he said.

Janeway patted the Lieutenant's shoulder in sympathy. "How much longer will he need these IVs, Doctor?"

"Until I can find the cause of his peculiar color shift," he said. "I've screened him for all known viruses and bacteria without finding a match."

Captain Janeway shared a serious look with Lt. Paris. "Yet we know the Ket'zali were experimenting on you. The question is what did they do."

Lt. Paris glanced at his forearm, squinting as if in concentration. "You'll have to hurry, Doc, because this green hue is growing on me." He looked up, raising an eyebrow in a mischievous grin.

"Tom," Janeway cooed sorrowfully. "It's worse than we thought. Awful puns are a very bad sign."

The Doctor flicked a finger at the bag of nutrients dripping into Mr. Paris. "This will tide you over until dinner." He turned to a puzzled Janeway. "He's literally starving to death, despite how many nutrients we pack in."

"What about Tuvok and Ensign Wildman?" Janeway inquired about the two other crewmembers who had survived a brief captivity with the warlike Ket'zali race.

"Completely different symptoms," he said, making a notation in a padd. "Now if you'll excuse me. I have matters to handle with my colleague."

As he stepped away, Tom lifted his head. The veins in his neck corded as he yelled, "Maybe the doc would like to called Dr. G?"

=/\=

Captain Janeway and Tom watched the Doctor shake his head, his gaze intent on the data in the padd. He stepped into his office and his associate materialized. The room was filled with shouting that died down instantly, but their posturing was one of sharp disagreement.

She turned again to look at the green pallor of her helmsman.

"Do you think those two will ever get along?" Tom asked.

"They'd better," Janeway said with a sigh. "I don't think I can take much more of their incessant feuding."

"I think they've added insult subroutines," he said.

A familiar voice drew them both in the other direction. "Our doc asked me for more memory where he dumped four giga-quads of Delta Quadrant swear words," Lt. B'Elanna Torres responded as she came to a stop beside the bed and across from Janeway.

"Terrific," Janeway muttered. "But at least those can be deleted."

B'Elanna pecked her husband's lips with her own and then squeezed his hand. The affection churned something primal inside of Janeway, forcing her to bite down hard on her molars.

"How are you feeling today?" B'Elanna asked, the backs of her fingers running up and down his arm.

"Terrible. The Doctor doesn't like any of my names for him."

B'Elanna's staccato laughter was infectious and the married couple were basking in what little solace they could find. "Do I even want to know?"

"I suggested 'L. Ron Hubbard' and he nearly sedated me."

Janeway arched a brow at her Chief Engineer, wondering if the wife knew anything about Tom's affinities for ancient earth history. B'Elanna shrugged. "I have no idea either, Captain."

"He was a science _fiction_ writer," Tom said, after a coughing spell.

When B'Elanna went to try to sit him up, Tom caught her hands in his own. "I'm all right, B'Elanna." He coughed again and then resumed as if nothing had been wrong. "So anyway, the guy wrote these awful sci fi books that never sold. So to make ends meet, he invented his own religion."

B'Elanna smirked as she crossed her arms. "Yeah, I know you sci fi readers will fall for anything. To get your attention, I almost changed my name to 'Malicia Darkheart.'"

"Hmm. We could have been married so much sooner if you had."

Janeway watched the smooth caramel colored hand caress Tom's cheek. She heard the faint, indistinguishable whispers in his ears. They held hands without fear and Janeway felt her throat close. This is what she wanted to give Seven. Greet the woman with a kiss in the mess hall. Flirt with her at dinner. Hold her hand at the latest crewmember talent show. Take a leisurely stroll around the ship. These were simple pleasures she wanted for herself, too. Have Seven kiss her senseless in front of God and everyone. Just once, so that they could all know that the woman was hers alone! Before she realized it, her eyes began to glisten and she turned her back abruptly.

Janeway could feel the burn of B'Elanna's famous scrutiny. "The ship's all abuzz about this morning. What's the official story about Neelix and Chakotay?"

She was relieved that the Chief Engineer's inquiry turned elsewhere. "Let's just say that Neelix' face collided with something." As she turned, Janeway tried to reply as nonchalantly as she could. "So Tom, what prognosis have the doctors given you?"

"Collide?" B'Elanna said.

When B'Elanna Torres wrestled with an engineering problem, the Klingon hybrid didn't let go until it was solved. Captain Janeway admired that. But when she dug her teeth into situations the Captain would rather not elaborate on, and then she was damn annoying.

"Yes, that's right," Janeway said, still looking at Tom's chartreuse-colored face. "So Tom...."

"Was he Chakotay's punching bag?" B'Elanna asked, turning an incisive gaze to her Captain.

Janeway made a strangled sound in her throat.

"Never mind, Captain!" she said, holding up a hand. "I know what that means, but I'll take that as an affirmative."

"B'Elanna...."

"I've lived on this ship for the last six months. I know what's going on, probably better than you do."

Tom chuckled. "Captain, I guess you haven't heard how my ferocious baby here laid Chakotay out in a nine-count," Tom said with some pride to his voice.

"What?" Janeway turned on her heels to look at her Chief Engineer.

"We disagreed," B'Elanna said with a bland shrug. "He cuffed me. I kicked his Mayan ass. End of story."

Captain Janeway dropped her head. Her fists automatically went to her hips. A brief query about why she hadn't seen a report popped up in her thoughts, but she pushed it away. "Lieutenant, he is your commanding officer." She raised her head again, suddenly feeling very weary. "At the very least, it was insubordination. At the most—"

"Mutiny," B'Elanna supplied. "But I had the upper hand and I still do. He needs a Chief Engineer desperately."

"That's probably the only reason I didn't find you in the brig," Janeway announced with a note of censure.

"I don't think so!" the Klingon barked. Then after a quick thought, she added: "Well, maybe. But do you know what I think it is? I'm Maquis, Captain. He can't afford to alienate one of us if he wants us to support his own power grab."

"B'Elanna," Janeway whispered. "That's a serious charge against someone you've known for a long time."

"I don't make this lightly and I've never said it before to anyone but Tom," she said. "I never thought I'd find myself on Starfleet's side. _Believe_ me! It's an odd feeling to be conventional. But—"

"So why then, Lieutenant?"

"It was his treatment of the sick and wounded."

"She means his treatment of me, Captain," Tom interrupted.

Janeway looked down at Tom and saw past the color of his skin, for the first time. His eyes were circled in black. His lips were pale and scaly. The joints in his hands were bulging out and his blue veins were standing up in angry contrast.

"He was ready to throw Tom out an airlock when he started retching mid-way through his twelve-hour shift."

Janeway's visage turned horrified. "Commander Chakotay?"

"Believe it, Captain."

She felt herself turn inward. It was the natural response of a scientist prodded on by a mystery that begged to be solved. "I don't doubt the challenges of repairing a battered ship with a skeleton crew," Janeway mused, seeing but not registering the look of dismay on the Klingon's face. "The pressures must have been enormous—no shore leave, hiding in a nebula, little food." Her voice trailed off as she swallowed. The Captain registered her guilt about how she'd spent the last six months, making love nearly every night to a beautiful woman, teaching a wonderful daughter, eating marvelously fresh food, developing great friendships. She inhaled again. "But the fact remains, Chakotay yielded command over to me when it was time. He—"

"He is holding secret meetings with some Maquis and some disgruntled Starfleet officers."

"How do you know?"

"We're still Maquis, Captain. He can't take that away from either Tom or I, no matter how much he would like to."

"I need proof," she whispered.

"I'll get it."

"No you won't!" Tom said, sitting up for the first time. He met his wife's incendiary gaze. "No, B'Elanna. You can't be the Lone Ranger. Not this time. Tell the Captain."

B'Elanna's expression softened. "I'm...um, I'm pregnant."

Janeway was startled to hear the admission uttered as a death sentence rather than a joyful declaration. "I would say congratulations are in order but—"

B'Elanna wiped a single tear with a hand. "I am happy," she declared with a painful smile. "But it happened just before Tom's symptoms started to show. He could have been sick. It could affect the baby. Kahless!" She turned her back and dropped her head back.

Tom tugged at the back of her coat with his only available hand. His own pained expression disfigured him even more.

Janeway placed a hand on B'Elanna's shoulder. "We are going to get through this—all of us! I promise you both. No," she said, as a more composed Chief Engineer faced her. "I promise the three of you that we are going to beat this."

Just as Seven of Nine entered sickbay, a warning klaxon sounded.

"_Lieutenant Kim to Captain Janeway."_

"Janeway here. Report!" She marched past Seven without so much as a nod.

"Fireflies—there are fireflies swarming around us in space."

"Fireflies?" Janeway stopped to peer up, as if she'd misheard.

"It's the best description I can give you, Captain. Millions of angry red fireflies are buzzing around us and they're—"

The ship rocked and Janeway nearly toppled over.

"It looks as if the creatures are testing the shield integrity. I've never seen anything like it!"

"Go to red alert. I'm on my way." Janeway pivoted at the exit. "Seven, you're with me!"

On Seven's heels, B'Elanna made her way out, heading to Engineering while the other two headed to the bridge. "Remember what I said, Captain," B'Elanna whispered as they parted company.

=/\=

"Fireflies are right," Captain Janeway muttered as she stood in front of the view screen.

There were seemingly hundreds of thousands of small lights buzzing around the ship. Some rammed straight into the shielded view screen, whiting it out briefly. The shield held and repelled them, but the creatures persisted.

"What are they?" she asked.

"Light, as far as I am able to scan," Seven reported. "The creatures, if they are such, do not stay stationary for more than one-point-four seconds. "The ship measures EM radiation. There is sufficient electrical charge to suggest electroluminence."

"Light and electricity," Janeway mused, watching the creatures blink out of existence in one spot and in at another. "Fireflies are an apt description, Mister Kim."

"But they are not insects." Seven's noted precisely. "In composition, the creatures are closer to lightning."

"But they're points, Seven. Not long, angled streaks," Harry replied. "And they're red."

"Yet, their energy readings exceed 26 megavolts per sphere."

"Seven, can you scan the area and see if these points of light are emanating from some planet or star? Some place?" Janeway observed the lights swirl around the ship. "I hope they don't realize they can attack the shield simultaneously for greater—"

Just as she spoke, a wave of them zipped forward in unison. The ship rocked again.

"Shields down by twenty percent," Mr. Kim called.

"Lt. Ayala," Janeway said. "Can you get us out of here?"

"They've managed impulse speeds quite easily," he said.

"Damn," she muttered. A larger, brighter wave of creatures surged toward the ship.

The ship quaked again. "Shields are down!"

Before Mr. Kim's declaration was complete, meter-long points of light began to dart about the confines of Voyager's bridge. "Take cover!" Janeway ordered.

One creature dashed toward Ensign Sarah Lang, who raised her arms to fend it off.

Janeway's phaser targeted above the ensign, but not before the creature entered her. The young woman's face contorted to pain. Her eyes widened in alarm and her mouth dropped open in a piercing shriek, dying on her lips. Her body slumped to the floor and the emerging ball of light was greeted with phaser fire.

"Get those shields up!" Janeway commanded, as she dropped to one knee, targeting the tens of hundreds of light entities.

Within minutes, they were gone. The flinty, metallic smell of phaser fire filled the bridge. She holstered her phaser and looked around, seeing movement from all other hands. She shared a quick, meaningful expression with Seven. Captain Janeway wanted to shield the woman with her own body. Fortunately the swiftness of the attack precluded any such strategy.

=/\=

Janeway leaned back in the desk chair, groaning under her weight. The chronometer in the Ready Room clicked to one hundred hours. Her stomach growled fiercely, suggesting a simpler measure of time, namely dinnertime.

She rubbed her eyes with her thumbs, bringing white starbursts on a black field of vision. Her eyes tried to rebel against her command to resume study of the workstation monitor. But the deep blues obeyed, reckoning their revenge by throbbing and by blurring their vision.

The Captain responded by gulping the lukewarm coffee, grimacing behind bared teeth. Old coffee was better than none.

Captain's Log Stardate 54272.83

Voyager has been attacked by beings of light since fourteen hundred hours. The attacks are intermittent and the beings—if that's what they are—travel at light speed. Ship sensor readings are scant. But we believe this: They emit light in the visible light spectrum. Red has been the only observable color. The millions, if not billions, points of light also emit electromagnetic radiation, measuring nearly 6,000 degrees Kelvin.

During our first encounter, a horde jointly rushed the ship's shields. Some were able to disable key grids, allowing them to board the ship. Clearly this denotes intelligence at its most rudimentary. Whether it was to commandeer Voyager or to communicate, we do not know. Ensign Sarah Lang, who was serving at Bridge Ops, was invaded by a creature. The EM radiation incinerated her from the inside out, according to a report from the Chief Medical Officer. We have no way of knowing if the death was a warning or an ill-fated attempt at détente.

I have recorded Ensign Lang as killed in action, along with her unborn child.

"Computer, end log." Janeway rubbed her temples. "Damn," she muttered at the vision of the young woman who would have added another soul to her crew. "Damn."

Her eyes throbbed in time with her head. Janeway's stomach was roiling and churning in waves of nausea.

Giving in to her headache, Janeway closed out her station, recycled her coffee mug and began a short walk to her empty quarters. At the lift, she steadied herself, rubbing her eyes harshly to refocus.

When the lift doors slid open, three hulking crewmembers stood motionless. She blinked several times. Her vision fogged. Janeway unzipped her tunic, feeling suddenly overheated. Her abdomen gurgled, as another wave of queasiness washed over her.

"Gentlemen," she croaked. "Excuse me."

When she surged forward, her shoulder was met with immovable muscle mass. She blinked again, willing her tired eyes to focus. The order went unheeded. She squinted at the six large men between her and the lift. She blinked. No, there were nine men. Janeway rubbed her eyes. Six. Blink. Three. Yes, there were three men. Dip, Sip and Tip.

"I apologize," she hissed, trying to squeeze past them.

Instead, a meaty hand grabbed her wrists and hauled her forward. As the lift closed, she was pushed against a wall, absorbing the shove with a jerk.

"Deck fifteen." Tip's voice was gruff, Janeway noted.

She felt the inertia tickle her dissenting stomach as the lift descended.

"Is there something you need me to see, gentlemen?"

"Why us, Captain?"

Janeway blinked, making out only the outlines of three men, their features lost in a gaussian blur. That one was Dip, slighter than Tip but every bit as swarthy.

"What do you mean 'why you'?"

"See that?" Sip's voice was heavily accented. "She doesn't even know who we are? This bitch-on-high is passing judgment without a care in the world for the people who make this bucket of bolts run."

"What judgment?" Janeway resisted the urge to rub her temples. The inside trio—head, eyes and stomach—were beginning to quake and rumble, making their own demands on her heedless of the outside peril.

"We were confined to quarters," Tip sneered.

"For a month," Dip clarified.

Dip stood in the middle and he was the leader, Janeway realized. "A month?" she replied slowly, trying to think of the incident report Chakotay had submitted. Was it just this morning? It felt like days ago, but it was a mere fifteen hundred hours back. He'd alerted her to the growing altercations among the crew. "I never authorized confinement for an entire month—"

"Liar!" Sip shouted only to be hushed by the other two.

The earsplitting cry became a thousand needles stabbing her brain.

Dip began to speak. "That's what you told Commander Chakotay—make an example of them. And that's what he did."

A clearer understanding dawned at last. These were some of the five crewmembers involved in the physical clashes. Captain Janeway had indeed ordered her First Officer to set an example. But— "A month is—"

"Retaliatory?" Dip supplied. His cool measured tones suggested he was not an enlisted man, but an officer. A Starfleet officer?!

"I was going to say excessive," she replied. Janeway met his calm voice with one of her own since she had no way to gauge his expression.

"You also ordered our entire replication rations confiscated."

"What?!"

"We'd been saving, damn you!" Tip was the volatile one. He was the one who shoved Janeway into the lift. The Captain felt menace flickering off of him, as she involuntarily stepped away from him, only to thump her head on the lift bulkhead.

Why would Chakotay strip them of all replicator rations? For what purpose? Again it seemed to be a disproportionate response given that only minor injuries had been reported in the disputes.

Janeway felt the lift stop and then heard the computer announce Deck Fifteen. Tip pushed her forward, making her lurch as she struggled to turn around.

A palm against a bulkhead and another across her churning stomach, Janeway faced the men. "Gentlemen, I'd be happy to review your case tomorrow."

Her body went rigid when she felt something hard nuzzle a shoulder blade. "Review this rifle, Captain." Sip's words were so burred and inflected, she could hardly understand him. But the venom was unmistakable, as was the weapon pointed at her chest.

Rifle? Those were supposed to be under locks! How?

The singular thought of mutiny made Janeway's knees buckle and she stumbled. Large, inconsiderate hands unmercifully yanked her upright.

"What's this?" A fourth voice inquired from the distance.

"Go back to your hole, Harren!" Dip was trying to dominate the man.

"What have you done to the Captain?" he asked. "She looks _ghastly_!"

The hand relinquished her and she fell to the ground, her elbows bearing the brunt of the fall. Janeway heard herself grunt.

"We haven't done anything!" Sip's voice was coloring to fear.

"Commander Chakotay…" the leader shrilled. "He told us Captain Janeway never trusted the Maquis. A little misunderstanding and we have to pay more than those fuckin' Starfleet bastards!"

No! Janeway screamed inside her head. That's a lie. A damned lie.

"So you thought mutiny and murder would put you back in Starfleet's good graces?" Crewman Mortimer Harren asked.

The words sent a skittering of cold, skeletal fingers along Janeway's spine. Then she heard a scuffle followed by Harren's half-hearted order for someone to halt. Retreating footfalls trailed off in the distance.

Janeway's stomach constricted as she felt someone standing over her. "Captain, are you all right?"

In response, Janeway vomited on her hero's boot.

=/\=

**A/N: I put a poll up on my profile. I want your opinion on the direction of the Third Book of the Time Enough series. Here's the poll: An adult Dani Janeway falls in love (of the F/F variety). Would you like to see more of the process of her falling for the person? This would mean several chapters were KJ and 7 don't make an appearance, but 90 percent of the entire _second half_ of Book 3 would be about KJ and 7. Please share your opinion with me. Thanks.**


	3. Imminent Implosion

**A/N: Nice to see we have more readers joining the ride. Welcome. Thanks for all the reviews; they are fuel for the train. **

**This chapter is a little long, but hopefully you'll have as much fun reading it as I had writing it. ~Isobel**

**Quantum of Chaos  
Chapter Three: Imminent Implosion**

Eridani pushed herself up against a bulkhead, her arms akimbo. "I don't want to go!"

Seven stopped at the Holodeck Two entrance, pivoting back to see her daughter a few meters down splayed against the wall. "This is your new school, Eridani. This is not your first day. This is your ninth day with your Voyager companions."

"Mom, it's…" Eridani covered her face with her hands. "So boring." She drew out the two words in a long, melodramatic lilt.

Seven squinted at the cacophony of childish cries. "Eridani, please desist from whining. It is inefficient."

Eridani dropped her arms, and her shoulders following suit. Her face was a picture of unhappiness with the inverted brows and the long, sour mouth. "I hate the class."

"You are too young to _hate_ anything. Please do not use that term until you have reached your thirtieth year of life." Seven stepped closer when she saw fat tears begin to descend. "Tell me again why you do not enjoy the class."

Eridani flicked a hand at the door. "The holodeck isn't real," she said with a sigh. "The trees are fake. The wind is phony. You can't even get hurt!"

"Is that bad?"

"It's chippy," she whispered. "Mr. Commagees would say it's dry shite."

Seven shook her head almost imperceptibly. "Eridani, Mr. Commagees' words are unsuitable for subunits."

"But it's true."

Mr. Commagee's done untold damage to her daughter's vocabulary. Seven wondered if she and Kathryn would ever be able to expunge his deleterious influence on Eridani.

That's when Seven noticed Eridani's shifty eyes. "That is not all."

She lifted her eyes to meet her mother's nearly identical ones. "The other kids are like drones—"

"They are not _like_ drones. They _were_ drones, at least four of them were."

The children—Mezoti, Icheb, Azan and Rebi—were rescued by Voyager nearly a year ago after their cube was disabled and they were abandoned as irrelevant by the Borg Collective. Mezoti was a nine-year-old Norcadian girl with long brown hair, jug ears and a smooth ridge that ran the length of her nose. Rebi and Azan were twin ten-year-old Wysanti boys with a grooved ridge bisecting their faces. The final Borg youngling was Icheb, a fifteen-year-old Brunali with features very nearly Norcadian.

Seven had taken charge of their assimilation into the life onboard Voyager, overseeing their education and socialization. Then there was the only child born to Voyager: Naomi Wildman. Slightly younger than Eridani, she was an assuming and acquiescent child. Despite the wide range of differences—from age to experiences, Seven had managed to share a friendship with each of them.

That was, until Eridani entered her world and the Ket'zali ripped them from the ship. Since returning, Seven had not been as involved with the other children as she once had. It was partly duties on a ship in desperate need of repair. It was partly making personal time for Kathryn on the Captain's erratic schedule, but it was also attending to the needs of her daughter. Other crewmembers had pointed out the disappointment the other children felt at her unavailability. But the knowing did not make more time in the day.

The other children were far more serious than what Eridani enjoyed. Spiro, her best friend, was a carefree soul, by comparison. On the other hand, Eridani had gotten into more than her fair share of disciplinary action with the Gweelee youngster. Perhaps the Borg children and a straight-arrow Naomi could help Eridani adapt to life aboard a starship.

These musings were processed by Seven in a fraction of a second. Yet, Eridani's reply was slow. "They're so…so…so…" Eridani scratched her head, searching for a word. "Linear. And boring. And they're unfriendly."

"Ah," she said. "I was a drone once."

"That's different."

"My shipmates called me linear and dull and cold, also."

Eridani dropped her chin. "That's different, I said. You're my mom."

"Eridani." Seven used a hooked finger to lift her daughter's chin. "They do not _know_ how to behave as children. Just as I did not know how to be an independent adult."

Seven brushed a tear from her daughter's eye. "Perhaps you could assist them in that endeavor."

The tears continued to flow. "Is there more to this, Eridani?"

Eridani used her shoulders to dry her eyes. "Why can't Cappie teach me?"

Seven drew her daughter in for a full embrace. She kissed the top of her daughter's fiery strawberry hair. "You grieve the change in your connection to Cappie."

She felt her daughter nodded. "I understand this grief, as well."

The girl lifted her chin and Seven cupped her ear, rubbing her thumb along the freckled cheekbone. "We will forge a new one—"

"But—"

"Though it will not be easy."

"But I miss her," Eridani finally wailed into Seven's singlesuit. The woman felt the moisture of tears. She was tempted to mingle her own there, but that would be inefficient.

"We will speak this evening about the matter and devise our own solutions."

"Really?"

"I do not lie."

Then Eridani frowned. "That means..."

"That you must complete your learning cycle for the day."

"I knew you were going to say that."

Seven frowned. Sometimes children were so illogical. "Then why did you allow me to say it for you?"

"Because."

They kissed and Seven watched the girl enter the holoprogram.

=/\=

Seven took her place across the length of table in the senior staff conference room. She was far enough away to be removed from the desire to tip her head and lick the Captain's bare neck, but close enough to admire her beauty and poise.

When Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres marched in and took the Captain's usual spot, Seven sat up, surveying the room for any sign of her lover. A snowy haired Lt. Commander Tuvok was seated across from her, his features implacable but his insistent coughing reminding her that he was not well. Following B'Elanna, Lt. Tom Paris had taken a seat to his wife's right, claiming it by setting a large beverage down along with a plate full of food, as if this were a breakfast summit.

Lt. Harry Kim swaggered in, giving the room a half smirk as he took a seat beside Seven. "Hello there," he gruffed, letting his eyes slide down her face to land on the prominent swells of her breast. "You are looking…well."

"Do you mean me or my—?"

"Seven of Nine," Tuvok replied. "He meant _you_, did you not, Mr. Kim?"

Harry's inky eyes snapped up. "Oh, yeah. That's exactly what I meant. No disrespect intended."

"Then I am…adequate."

"Okay, people," B'Elanna said, tossing several padds on the table top. "Looks like I'm in charge, like it or not." The Doctor materialized in the room and he took the other chair beside B'Elanna.

"Sorry for the delay," he replied, ducking his head as he sat.

"Not at all, Doctor," B'Elanna said. "It's perfect timing, actually. I'll let you tell us why I'm here."

He glared at her, nodding once. "Last night at approximately one hundred hours, Captain Janeway took ill—"

Seven's eyes widened as she bolted upright, her chair crashing to the ground. Time seemed to slow as her awareness went inward: a rush of epinephrine poured into her blood; and her respiration increased by twenty-five percent. Her heart rate doubled, its blood-splashing echo heard in her ears.

Images of Kathryn lying on the floor in their apartment on Gweelee began to superimpose themselves over her visual center. Kathryn body was rigid and convulsing. She was non-responsive and cold to the touch.

Suddenly, Seven felt her anterior cerebral arteries constrict, followed by a cascade of stabbing pain behind her eyes. Like an automaton, she moved toward the exit, bumping into chairs, not registering any other words, not even her own name.

"Seven!" B'Elanna shouted. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

The Doctor was halfway to Seven, when he looked back to the Klingon. "Let me, Lieutenant. Please carry on."

The Doctor stopped Seven just outside the entrance, clasping the woman's biceps with both of his. His image matrix rippled as he diverted more power to grip the ex-Borg. "Seven," he said. "Snap out of it!"

She finally blinked, looking at him. "Snap? Kathryn is damaged. I must find her and assist her. Our child—"

"Stop it!" The Doctor said, glancing up and down the corridor. He lowered his voice. "Listen to me, Seven. She is all right. They are both going to be fine."

Seven stared at the Doctor, searching his face.

"Believe me, Seven," he said. "I'm a doctor, not a politician."

"She will not die?"

"No, not today or tomorrow or many, many tomorrows."

Seven felt the Doctor's grip loosen and then fall away. "The child is…?"

"They are both fine," he said. "Unfortunately, her penchant for too much coffee and not enough food exacerbated a number of symptoms _for a woman in her condition_." He lifted his brows, signaling their shared secret. He spoke slowly. "Captain Janeway experienced some symptoms of pre-eclampsia—"

"I am not familiar—"

"It's a condition that some women get under this circumstance. It includes a host of symptoms, including high blood pressure, blurry vision, nausea and vomiting, and possibly other complications."

"You stated she was would be fine, as well as the child."

"They will be," he said. Seven felt the Doctor's grip weaken. "The condition is under control, with the symptoms non-existent now. Our goal is to keep it from going to full blown eclampsia, which would necessitate complete bed rest."

"The Captain would scorn complete bed rest," she stated in monotone.

"Yes, that was my leverage. She's going to have to cut out the coffee."

Seven's eyes widened. "Is that feasible?"

"It better be!" he hissed. "If she doesn't want to spend the next nine months guiding her ship from a mattress."

Seven inhaled, turning her gaze to the turbolift. "Why was I not informed?"

The Doctor frowned, the grooves of his forehead deeply etched and his mouth was turned down. "I think that's a matter between the two of you."

"Does she remain in sick bay?"

"For a few more tests, yes. She will be there following your staff meeting."

Seven looked again at the turbolift.

"Seven," the Doctor said quietly. "The Captain needs you at your post, now more than ever. There are strange undercurrents among the crew."

She glanced back at the entrance to the conference room, remembering the strange interaction with a new "alpha male" Harry Kim. "Yes, this I have sensed as well."

"Won't you return to the meeting?"

Seven nodded, making the Doctor smile faintly. "It's too bad you don't know any of her friends—and by 'friends' I mean people who aren't emotional tabula rasas like Commander Tuvok."

"For what purpose?"

"Sometimes talking to someone who knows our loved one best, well, it helps us cope."

"Do I need to cope, Doctor?"

"Cope or drown your sorrows." The Doctor gestured to the briefing room entrance. "Shall we?"

=/\=

Exactly two hours, seventeen minutes and thirteen seconds later, Seven of Nine strode into sickbay. She paused at the door, seeing the backup EMH speaking to the Captain, who was in a fresh, full uniform and sitting on a biobed.

Captain Janeway was nodding emphatically, until finally holding up her hands and throwing her back slightly. Seven heard a husky reply of "Fine, Doctor. Fine. I got it."

The Doctor seemed placated and stepped away, giving Captain the room to turn around. Gray met sapphire with a surprised expression. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, without breaking the gaze she held with Seven of Nine.

Seven could see the fatigue in her Captain's eyes and the burden of command chaffing her stiff shoulders. "Seven, I—"

A warning klaxon sounded. "Red alert! Senior staff report to the bridge."

=/\=

Earlier that day, Dani sat listlessly in a large swing with her cheek propped against the chain suspension. She and the other children were trapped in an "outdoor play" holoprogram during their break from instruction. They were in a field of green grass with a kidney shaped sand pit in the center. In the pit, there were four old-fashioned swings, a climbing wall, a merry-go-round and a slide. The perimeter was dotted with large red Maple trees for shade from the yellow holographic sun hung in a clear blue sky.

Naomi and the Borg children were milling around the swing. Mezoti pulled a swing back, releasing it at its apex to watch the pendulum reaction. She caught it on its return. "What does one do with this?"

"You sit on it," Dani replied with a yawn. "Then you swing."

"Its arc is limited," Mezoti replied.

"Yeah, kinda like this playground," she said. "Go ahead and try it."

Mezoti and Naomi took a position on a swing. They jerked when Dani began pushing them. "Hold on," she said.

The girls smiled when Dani had pushed them as high as she could.

Icheb came to stand beside Dani, watching the pendulum. "Is that all it does?"

"Pretty much," Dani said.

"Do human children enjoy it?" Azan asked from the top of the slide.

"When they're about three years old, yeah."

Mezoti jumped off the swing at its highest point, landing to the ground with a small bend of the knee. She stood upright. "I do not like it."

Dani shrugged. "It's for babies, all right."

"Computer, what is the time index?" Mezoti frowned at the answer. "We must exercise for approximately forty-five more minutes."

Suddenly, green text began to scroll across Dani's visual centers. She straightened up, her eyes shifting and her lips moving as she read the text emitted from her Borg cerebral implant.

Two seconds prior to its appearance, Dani looked up at the cloudless blue sky to see a red point of light emerge, followed by several more. Then a warning klaxon sounded ship-wide.

The Borg children stood, trying to face the unknown flying objects. Naomi ducked under the slide, with her face peering out. The red lights flickered over and then reappeared in an entirely new location.

"Computer," Dani said. "Create a geodesic container three feet high."

A giant globe formed with pentagonal and hexagonal surfaces materialized before her.

Icheb watched her, finally stepping close to ask, "Eridani, what are you doing?"

Dani tried to climbed up on the geodesic form. She put her hands on her hips and turned to Icheb. "Give me a lift up?"

"I do not understand."

She clasped her hands together, bending at the waist to demonstrate a hand-formed step. He mimicked her and then gurgled when the wiry young girl scrambled up and over him to lie on the large ball.

"Computer, line the inside of the form with mirrors." Instantly, it transformed as she ordered.

"I asked you what you are planning, Eridani," Icheb repeated.

Dani smirked at him, before she spoke again. "Computer, transport one of the beings into the form."

Her smirk dissolved quickly. "_Cannot comply. That is a violation of the safety protocols."_

Dani frowned. "Computer, disable safety protocols."

"Cannot comply. That modification requires an authorization code from a senior staff member."

The twins walked over, staring at the form. "What is this?"

"Don't you know your shapes?" Dani asked.

"What are you trying to accomplish?" Mezoti asked, tipping her head to one side.

Dani opened her mouth watching the girl. Then the green text began to teletype across her visual centers again. She nodded once. "Computer, override safety protocols."

Icheb began to state the obvious. "You are not authorized—"

"_Authorization code required,"_ the computer asked.

Dani held Icheb's gaze as she spoke, a sly grin curving one side. "Authorization Janeway Theta Gamma Pi Seven."

"_Safety protocols disabled."_

"You shouldn't have Captain Janeway's codes," Naomi called from her concealment under the slide.

"Furthermore, you could injure yourself," Icheb said.

Ignoring the younger girl, Dani screwed up her face at the boy. "I already have two mothers!"

Dani nearly laughed out loud at the contortion of the former drone's features. "I do not understand," he said calmly.

She looked at each of the drones in turn. Icheb was studying her; while the twins were warily watching the five red lights traverse the holodeck. Mezoti was studied Naomi, who lingered under the slide. "Oh, for the love of King Tryto!" Dani yelled.

She pointed at Mezoti. "Can you stay with Naomi?"

Mezoti inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Hey twinkies," she called to Azan and Rebi. "C'mere."

"When I order the computer to transport a light thingy into this—"

"Would it not be better to make the orb transparent as well, so we may observe the phenomenon?" Icheb asked.

For the first time, Dani offered the teenaged Borg boy a genuine grin. "Brilliant!" And she ordered the computer to make it so.

"Now, when I say 'go!' we'll have to sit on it so it doesn't float away." She looked at them, their features were nearly unyielding, except for raised eyebrows that denoted doubt. "Got me?"

She stood up on the form. "Computer, transport one of the red lights into this sphere."

They saw a red light, bouncing above a tree top sparkle out of existence. Suddenly, Dani felt a tremble under her. She dropped to her belly, holding on to any corners she could grab. "C'mon, boys," she hissed. "I need your mass to counter this—whoa!" The geodesic sphere, with Dani on top, began to float up. "Reach up, lads!"

The three boys stretched upward, taking a part of it to tug down.

"That's it!" Dani replied with a gust of relief.

About a foot off the ground, the sphere thudded to the ground. Dani's lips hit a sharp edge and she moaned. "Ouch!" she touched her lip, her finger displaying the blood she found there.

"The ball of light is changing colors," Icheb said.

"It was orange and now it is almost red," Rebi said. "Curious."

"What would account for a chromatic shift?" Azan inquired.

The three boys tipped their heads, almost in unison. "Okay guys," Dani said. "We'll dissect the—"

The sphere flew up, with a yelp from Dani. Mezoti came to stand under the sphere. "Perhaps you angered it, Eridani."

"It's turning back to orange," Rebi stated.

"Strictly speaking," Icheb said. "It is not light, but flame."

"It does appear to be a gaseous anomaly," Naomi said, tiptoeing cautiously to stand behind Icheb and tug his shirt.

"Computer," Dani growled, after her backside felt the upper limits of the holodeck. "Recompose the geodesic orb into heavier material."

She saw the shimmer under her and felt a dip in the hovering sphere. She howled in frustration. The green text needed to be more specific. If she ever found out who was sending her these messages, she would throttle them into next week.

"Computer," Mezoti said at last. "Tie six fifty pound sand bags at sixty-degree intervals along the orb's circumference."

The orb plummeted, along with a shrieking Dani. Just as it was to hit the deck, it stopped.

"Did you notice its color shift?" Icheb asked.

"From yellow when the bags began to exact force and then to red when it _reacted_," Naomi replied.

Now hovering a foot off the ground, Dani smiled at Mezoti. "Where'd you learn that trick?"

"My readings of Earth history included the transportation mode of hot air balloons." She glanced at the other children, as if she were lecturing. "A similar weight was used to constrain the device."

Naomi kept her gaze on the gaseous light. "Uh oh," she said, when she saw it phasing back toward the cooler color spectrum. "Dani, maybe you should jump—"

Without warning, it shot straight up, bumping Dani into the ceiling with a loud "oomph."

Icheb cupped his hands to his mouth. "If you had not disabled the safety protocols, you could have jump down," he shouted.

"That doesn't help!" she snarled.

Before she finished speaking, the orb bucked once. Dani's gripping fingers turned white. Then it shot out horizontal, headed straight toward the holodeck wall that looked like more of a green field of grass.

"Bloody brown trout!" Dani yelled.

"Let go!" the children yelled.

Dani dropped into a tree, its branches slowing her fall but scraping her face and arms.

"Take cover!" Icheb shouted. "It's going to explode!"

A second later, the transparent sphere slammed into the holodeck wall.

Glittering shards showered the small park like deadly rain. The red ball of gas escaped through the ship bulkhead.

=/\=

The holodeck doors slid open. From her perch, Dani could hear boots crunching and then she groaned when she heard her mother's deep voice. "What do you children think you were doing?"

Icheb unfolded his tall body from under the slide to stand before the Captain. The other children followed suit. "We were shielding ourselves from a geodesic sphere that shattered on impact with the holodeck wall."

She squinted around, the holographic light glinting off of the rubble. Janeway felt Seven of Nine step beside her.

"Captain, there are high levels of radiation in this vicinity, much more than experienced ship-wide."

Icheb nodded to his mentor. "Seven, it may be because we captured the ball of flames and held it for approximately four-point-three minutes before it escaped."

Captain Janeway felt her insides consumed in molten fear. Her head began to pound and her eye began to twitch. These children could have been killed! "We'll debrief this after you've all seen a doctor." She glanced up. "Computer—"

"Captain," Icheb said. "If you were about to deactivate the program, you should be aware that the safety protocols were disabled."

"Who was supervising the children?" she asked pointedly over her shoulder.

Tuvok coughed, stepping forward to speak. "I believe that Ensign O'Donnell was offering a treatise on the Laws of Motion."

"I want him in my ready room yesterday." She turned to meet Tuvok's gaze.

He raised an eyebrow. "I understand perfectly, Captain."

Captain Janeway's features softened for Icheb. "Who disabled the safety protocol, Icheb?"

He lifted his chin, his eyes wondering briefly to Seven's and then back. The other children looked at him.

"Did you do it?" Janeway knew her words were too short. He was a child, after all. But this was serious, dammit!

"I do not believe I can answer—"

"Computer," she hissed. "Who disabled the safety protocols in Holodeck Two?"

"_Captain Kathryn Janeway."_

Her face hardened to steely stone, the small largesse she'd granted the children evaporated with the revelation that someone had misappropriated her personal authorization codes. "Icheb, I am ordering you to tell me—"

"I did it."

Janeway looked around, unable to locate the hoarse voice of her first born.

"To your right, Captain," Seven replied, pointing up. "There."

Janeway strangled an alarm in her throat when she raised her eyes. Dani was caught nearly upside down in the canopy of a holographic red Maple. She turned an incendiary look on her child, who responded by closing her eyes.

"Computer," Seven said. "Reinitialize safety protocols in Holodeck Two."

"_Safety protocols reinitialized." _

"Computer, delete all trees."

The foliated Maple winked out of existence and Dani safely floated to the ground.

Ignoring her daughter for the time being, the Captain shifted her feet, hearing, as if for the first time, the crunching under her boots. "What kind of material is this?" She toed a small mound.

"Tritanium alloy," Seven replied as she stepped onto the small shards. "Reinforced with duranium and sand."

"Sand?" Janeway rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes. "Computer, deactivate holoprogram." The bucolic scene shimmered and then disappeared, replaced by a black deck decorated with a yellow grid.

"I want these children sent to sickbay for a thorough exam. I'll deal with them after they've cleared the doctor."

She watched as the children filed past, followed by her limping daughter. Just as Dani stepped past, Janeway grabbed the girl's arm. The Captain let her hand glide down until their hands were clasped. "Are you all right?"

Dani stopped, turning glistening eyes on her mother. "Um, yeah."

"Good," Cappie whispered, pulling the girl into a tight hug. She kissed the top of her head before saying, "You very nearly scared me to death, kiddo."

"I scared myself." Dani's reply was muffled against her mother's tunic.

Janeway pulled back, holding Dani's shoulders. "Good!" she said sharply. "Because I don't ever want to hear of you doing something so reckless again. Do you understand me?"

Dani nodded, a single tear sliding down. "But you're the one who doesn't understand."

Janeway let her hands drop, disappointment marring her features. "This discussion is not over, young lady."

"I know" was Dani's soundless response, as she shuffled to the exit.

Janeway looked up at Seven, expecting a shared sympathetic connection. Instead, she got a chilly Borg mask. "I'll see you later," Janeway croaked, suddenly drained of confidence. "Make sure you get those cuts looked at!"

Alone in the holodeck, Janeway let her head lob forward. Then she straightened, stabbing the heel of her hand into an arched back. "I want coffee," she mumbled before leaving.

=/\=

The corridor was quiet, the other children having left much earlier for sickbay. Dani could hear their own footfalls and the hum of the ship. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, sniffling for good measure.

"Are you in pain?" Seven asked quietly, placing an arm around the girl's shoulders.

"My cuts hurt."

Seven stopped her daughter, lifting her chin with a hooked finger. The mother inspected the girl's freckled face by tipping her head this way and that. "You have forty two minor cuts and five abrasions on your face."

"It feels like forty two gazillion."

"May I enquire, Eridani," she said, taking the girl's hand to resume their walk. "Why did you do such a dangerous action?"

"Because I was told to."

"Who told you this?"

"You know," she whispered. Then she tapped her temple. "The future."

Seven considered the statement. "Perhaps that is why you succeeded on holodeck two and we failed on the bridge to capture one of the beings."

"The Borg kids thought the beings were gaseous anomalies," she said.

"What did you hope to achieve, Eridani?"

"I dunno. It just said, 'Do it.'"

Seven repeated the oft-heard phrase. "The phrase suggests that it is your Cappie."

"Naw, I don't think so," she said. After a few more steps in silence, Dani ventured more. "But I think we learned some stuff."

Seven raised an eyebrow and Dani filled her in on the color shifts and the bursts of energy on their walk. Just outside the sickbay entrance, Seven stopped her daughter. "You must not inform Cappie of the messages you receive from your cerebral implant."

Dani's eyes widened. "What about—" and now she effected her most compelling imitation of her Borg mother—"'I do not lie, Eridani.'?"

"It is not an untruth—" Seven frowned at the sly smirk of her precocious daughter. "Sometimes lying is more _efficient_."

Dani grinned ear to ear. "I like it when you treat me like a big girl."

"Do you comprehend?"

"Have I spilled the beans on you-know-what?"

Seven laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it for emphasis. "Cappie will continue to not understand."

"I know," Dani whispered. "The green words told me."

"You will be brave?"

"Chocolate ice cream will help me," she said beaming.

Seven pressed her lips to her daughter's forehead, before leading her into sickbay. "You must be experiencing a maturation surge if your fixation on chocolate is any indicator."

=/\=

Seven stepped into the Fair Haven pub, her blue singlesuit drawing the stares of all the men in the drinking den. Gray haired men turned, with mugs of beer in hand to look at the tall beauty. Seven's Borg hearing picked up some phrases among the whispering, including "Not a good Irish lass but gorgeous nonetheless." She shared a menacing Borg look for each of them, effectively silencing the gossip.

"I am looking for Michael Sullivan."

All eyes turned to the barkeeper, who was drying glasses at the bar. He set a mug upside on top of a cloth. "What can I do for you, Miss?"

"Seven," she replied.

He gestured to the seat, beside the bar. "Seven what? You're too much a lady to want seven of anything, except maybe tea."

"No, Seven is my designation."

"Ah, Miss Seven, what will ya drink?"

"Is water available?"

"Aye, it's available." Michael leaned over toward her, and then in a conspiratorial whisper added: "But I don't trust anyone who would drink water where she should choose Guinness or Smithwick's."

She raised a brow. "Water," she commanded.

He strolled as if he had all the time in the world to the other end, filled a glass sloppily and sent it skidding on the bar toward her. Seven caught it, the liquid sloshing onto her Borg hand.

"So what ails you, Miss Seven?"

She glanced around, satisfied they were sufficiently isolated when he drew close. "What ails anyone who comes to see you, Mr. Sullivan?"

"Trouble," he said, pouring some pretzels into a bowl for his new guest. "With a Capital F of the Female persuasion."

"Ah," she replied, sipping the water. "Then I am at the correct coordinates."

=/\=

Seven was safely ensconced in a booth table, with a high wooden back inlaid with a golden harp. She could not see the entrance, but nor could anyone else spy her.

Michael Sullivan sat across from her, when he was not delivering drinks to others. "So who is your lady, Miss Seven, and do they condone that sort of thing where you are from?"

"What sort of thing?"

"You know, attraction between two women."

"It is beyond attraction, Master Sullivan."

"You mean you're married?"

"No, but we are in a sexual relationship."

"You must be from Dublin then," he replied with a hint of disdain. "Or Cork perhaps." Then he grinned brightly. "London then? We in Fair Haven are simple folk. One man and one woman."

"I understand that you are aware of the existence of _others_, from the future. Are you not?"

Michael's face turned sheepish. "Ah, so you are one of Katie O'Clare's friends?"

"Katie O'Clare?"

"I think you may know her as—" in a whisper—"Kathryn Janeway. Captain Janeway."

"Yes, I am well acquainted with the good Captain," she replied with a hiccup. "She is the source of what ails me?"

"My Katie?"

Seven regarded him for a moment, setting her drink down very carefully. "No, Master Sullivan. Not _your_ Katie and not my Kathryn. She belongs to Voyager."

"Voyager?!" The man spat the word. "Yes, this Voyager is the devil." He wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand as he poured himself a glass of water. "So you've 'had' my...you've 'had' Katie?"

"If by 'had' you are suggesting that we have copulated, then yes. I have 'had' her. But she has no one but the ship."

"Damn the ship!" he shouted with a flourish of his drink.

Seven saluted also, drinking liberally from the glass. "To perdition," she replied.

"No, Miss Seven, you say, 'I'll drink to that!'"

Seven blinked several times. "But I did."

"No, you said 'to perdition.' Are you snookered on water already, Miss Seven?"

"No, I did not say it. But I drank to it. Must I give a narrative of what I am about to do?"

He shook his head. "Don't they drink beer in the future?"

"I do not," she replied. "But I was told by a friend to 'drown my sorrows.'"

=/\=

The sun in Fair Haven was low, as it poured in like fingers of gold through tiffany window. The pub fireplace was crackling. Michael remained ensconced in a booth with Seven, side by side. His arm was draped across her back. "I've known Katie for years," he replied.

"I am aware of this."

"Are you jealous?"

"Should I be?"

"I suppose not, since I've never shared anything but a heated kiss. But you—" he shook his head, giving a wry smile. "I envy you, Miss Seven. Even if Katie were to toss me aside after one _glorious_ night, I would be happy to drink from a fine chalice such as her."

"She is quite the drink."

"As I was saying, I've known her for years and she is quite private."

"That is her flaw and the source of my unhappiness."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she said with a flinty voice. "She is the captain and I am a lowly Astrometrics Officer by day. At night, she shares my bed on occasion..."

Michael groaned in longing, earning a frown from Seven. "Oh, sorry," he said with a grin that proclaimed the opposite. "But do go on."

"Thus far, Captain Janeway has controlled the tone and tenor of our relationship on board, down to excluding me from news of her health and well-being. It is _inefficient. _Moreover, it is an antiquated relational paradigm."

"Couldn't agree more."

"It is difficult to constrain my feelings of…." Seven's voice warbled and she cleared her throat. "Dismay and disappointment."

"It is painful," he replied softly.

Seven blinked several times, looking at but not registering the holographic features of Michael Sullivan. "Excruciating."

Seven felt herself drift in her thoughts to the bliss of Gweelee, where Kat O'Nine was hers and hers alone. Yet, there was a hole in her lover's heart the size of the U.S.S. Voyager. With that hole filled, Seven was superfluous.

Michael laid a warm hand on Seven's. "Meanwhile, you have probably also changed yer ways during the day. No longer challenging her decisions because you don't want to rock the boat, so to speak."

"Yes!" she said, slamming her drink down. The water spilled over the glass edge. "Precisely spoken, Michael. Well done!"

"So yer saying, Captain Janeway holds the strings day and night because you're too gentlemanly to embarrass her?"

"It is in my nature to comply with the collective." She tipped her head back, taking a long slug of water. "I do not mind the subordination during the day. She is Captain. I was impressed into service on Voyager when she was at the post. However, she does not acknowledge our special relationship. She portrays me as just another crewmember, even to the point of hiding key information. That is unacceptable."

"You want to marry, like _other_ couples."

"Yes!" she said, slamming her drink down again. "Like other couples."

"But Katie is secretive."

"Too secretive, it seems."

"She believes all of her must be reserved for Voyager."

"Damn the ship!"

"I'll drink to that!"

They both tipped their heads back.

"Another barkeep," she replied with a hiccup as she slammed the mug down.

=/\=

Earlier in the day, Janeway's hands were linked behind her back and she was slowly marching up and down the line of children at attention in her Ready Room.

"In the future—wait, scratch that. I do not want to see any of you endangering your lives for a prank, however much you believe its scientific value. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a round of falsetto assents, though she suspected that her own daughter mouthed the words without speaking them. "Your recreational holodeck privileges are hereby revoked for one week."

She waited for groans of dissent. When none came, she resumed her pacing. "Second, if you have so much energy, all of you will be rousted at six hundred hours for PT."

"What is PT?" Icheb asked.

"Physical Training," she said, carefully pronouncing each syllable. "You'll get to run the Deck Seven circuit, like the rest of us trying to stay in shape."

"I don't think my mom will like that," Naomi informed the Captain.

Janeway glared at first girl and then her own daughter, who had difficulty stifling a guffaw.

"I'm sure she'll understand after I speak with her, Naomi," Janeway said, struggling to keep her tone mild.

Was it just two weeks ago, Janeway had felt confident as a parent? Then she had effectively managed one child. Here there were six who seemed to feed off of each other, risking together what they would not dare to risk alone. She would need to channel this synergy, Janeway realized.

"Finally, I would like you each to write a five thousand word essay on the ancient Earth book, 'Lord of the Flies.' You will find the book in the ship's cultural database."

"Is that an exposition on the hierarchy of flying insects?" Rebi inquired.

"No," Janeway slowly. Her impatient gaze met Commander Tuvok's, who stood in the back of the room.

He raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly. She knew what he was saying. "This is your mess."

"No, Rebi," Janeway replied, more controlled. "It's about conflict. Order versus chaos and reason versus impulse. Law versus anarchy."

"But where do the bugs come in?" Dani asked.

Janeway narrowed her eyes on her daughter's half smirk. It was almost like looking in the mirror twenty-some years past. She'd done her fair share of giving her parents fits, but she was completely sure that she never started so young. The Captain was also sure that she'd never been captive to the Ket'zali and the Mencari or ripped from her parents and timeline. The thought was sobering and she offered a forced smile.

"I'll let you figure it out. In any case, I want those on my desk in three days. You are dismissed."

As Dani walked past her, Janeway hastily added: "Elizabeth Eridani, as you were."

Dani shared a meaningful look with Mezoti before returning to her spot in the middle of the room. She watched the other children exit.

"Tuvok," Janeway said. "I think we'll need to add voice authentication to the authorization codes."

Tuvok arched a brow at the back of the Captain's daughter. "I will also prepare to initiate retinal authentication, if the need arises."

When the door slid shut, Janeway saw Dani swallow hard. She climbed the steps to the observation deck, sitting on the couch and draping an arm across the back while she crossed a leg.

"Dani?"

Dani jerked her head up.

"Please join me up here."

Dani stepped slowly, as if it were her final actions. Janeway noticed the girl was careful to avoid her gaze. She finally took the lone chair at a right angle to her mother.

Dani slumped back in the chair, until her mother's frown forced her to straighten.

"I cannot begin to tell you how disappointed I am in what you have done today."

Dani's eyes watered, but her cheeks remained dry. Janeway opened her mouth, but strangled a cry. Kathryn opened her arms. "C'mere baby."

Dani hesitated only a moment before climbing on the couch beside her mother. She snuggled her back up while Kathryn draped an arm around her daughter's shoulder. With her other hand, she tucked strawberry locks behind her ear.

"Tell me what you were thinking today."

Dani shrugged, staring at her wringing hands. "I just thought it would be…fun. The holodeck is really lame."

"Do you realize that you and your friends could have been seriously injured? That there is no telling what those beings could have done to you?" The Captain inhaled sharply. "And how on Earth did you get my personal codes?"

Dani jerked her chin up, watching Tuvok tapping out something on his padd across the room. The girl sobbed once.

The Captain registered the terror. She tried to smile warmly. "It's okay. Just tell me."

Dani opened her mouth, her chin hanging for several minutes before she spoke. "I don't remember."

The Captain withdrew her arm from the girl. "You don't remember? Is that the best you can do?"

"Yes." It was a squeak.

Janeway stood up. "You are a Janeway, young lady. You're a natural leader. How you got the Borg children to follow you speaks to that. But it also means you bear a greater responsibility. Do you understand that?"

Dani nodded, her eyes still downcast.

"So that means, you will bear more of the consequences."

Dani's eyes went wide. "That's not fair."

"It is when you are responsible for leading them to such foolishness."

"They could have walked out of the holodeck."

"But they didn't," Janeway said, stepping down the stairs. "They shared your vision. You retrieved your tools and you broke at least two regulations doing it. Leadership means accepting the negative possibilities, as well as sharing the spoils."

"It's still not fair."

Janeway paused to glance at her sulking daughter, as she searched for something on her desk. "Maybe not, but that's how it is. That's how my father prepared me and that's how I'm preparing you."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to, darling. But you must accept the consequences—good and bad."

Dani sniffed indignantly.

Janeway ascended the stairs once more to hand her daughter a leather bracelet.

"What's this?" she asked, turning it every way.

"My grandfather made that for me when I was almost 14."

She ran a finger along four capital letters etched there. "What does it mean?"

"I want you to wear it because the next time you find yourself leading a willing group of crew members, I want you to ask yourself this little question: 'What would Janeway do?'"

Dani traced the letters again. "WWJD."

"Yes, exactly. Your mother would appreciate the message's precision."

Dani cinched it around her left wrist. "I'll try to remember, Cap."

Janeway nodded once. "That's all I ask, darling. Give me a hug?"

Dani wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and squeezed hard.

Dani stood up, her smile beaming. But Janeway was still grim. "As part of your leadership training—in addition to all of the disciplinary actions I've mentioned, you will be performing some light kitchen duty, under Mr. Neelix, right after your PT run for the next few days."

Dani's face twisted in horrified disbelief. "That's so not fair, Cappie."

"No, but that's a part of the lesson." Janeway gestured toward the door. "You may resume your learning cycle."

"But—"

"You're dismissed."

She followed her daughter as far the Vulcan sentinel, watching Dani exit with a downcast head.

"You handled this entire situation with poise and wisdom," Tuvok stated.

"Thank you, but I have a feeling this is just the beginning."

"However," he said. "Have you considered who will 'roust' the children out of bed at six hundred for PT?"

Janeway scrubbed her face with a hand. "No, I hadn't thought that far ahead. Are you interested by chance?"

"My condition precludes physical exertion at this time."

Janeway offered him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, old friend. I'm sure we'll find beat this."

Tuvok coughed. "I have every confidence in the Doctor's."

"I know they won't let us down," she said. "I am also confident they are going to isolate what is wrong with the crew. Did you send B'Elanna the message?"

He nodded. "Yes, she will begin the infiltration."

=/\=

When she was alone, Janeway flung herself on the couch and closed her eyes. This little meeting with the children had gone better than she expected. _Of course, it did! They're good kids_, she thought.

It had gone far better than her meeting with Chakotay earlier. The Captain slowly exhaled, counting to ten as she did. A stabbing pain behind her eyes reasserted itself. It was the kind of headache only coffee could appease.

The Captain had discussed the Neelix incident with her First Officer, but had carefully avoided any discussions about the three men who had attempted to accost her. The men—Ensign Danel Blaine, Crewman Antonin Gennaro and Crewman Boultef Jarvin—were confined to quarters, with guards posted. She was hoping against all odds that Chakotay wasn't planning a mutiny, but if he was, she was hoping to force his hand. She just hoped the cause of external and not a fatal character flaw.

Janeway breathed in deeply again. It was time for another stressful meeting. "Computer, locate Seven of Nine."

"_Seven of Nine is in Holodeck One."_

=/\=

The pub door opened. The din quieted briefly before Kathryn Janeway stepped inside. She was wearing her Starfleet uniform and not a high-neck Victorian dress with frills and a bustle. "Oh, Katie!" one of the steely-headed men shout. "You're lovely but yer skivvies are just dreadful."

She smiled vacantly and waved. Then the Captain searched for the vicinity for her lover.

Michael jumped up from the table. "Ah, Katie, how are ye?"

She smiled, but her eyes continued to search the bar. "Michael, I am well. And you?"

"Now that you're here, all is well with the world."

"Thank you, Michael, but I am in quite a hurry to locate my friend. Have you seen—"

"Miss Seven?" He gestured to the booth. "Aye, I've seen her. Shall I bring you a drink?"

"No," she said, turning to see a sullen Seven staring off into space. "Thank you, though."

She stepped up to the table. "Seven," she whispered.

"Katie," she said in a slur.

Kathryn's eyebrow lift was lost on the younger woman, who gestured for her to sit.

"I am surprised to find you here." She raised a hand as Michael set down a glass for her. "Thank you."

He winked at her and left.

"Why are you surprised?"

"Several reasons, really," she said, sliding into the bench across from Seven. "I understand you left the senior staff briefing this morning in a huff."

Seven narrowed her eyes. "Borg do not huff."

Janeway held up her hands. "Not my words."

"B'Elanna Torres is in error."

"I see," she said, tapping the table nervously with a thumb. "I thought you would have at least…looked for me."

Seven stared at Janeway for several long, blistering minutes. "And I would have thought you would have notified me…" Seven's voice did a peculiar break, something Janeway had never heard. She watched the sapphire eyes mist and then just as quickly evaporate. "Of your illness last night."

"I'm sorry, darling, I was—"

"I was informed during a senior staff meeting that the mother of my child was convalescing in sickbay."

"I'm truly and deeply sorry that—"

"Do not speak! Not one utterance!" After a moment of silence. "I am so angry I am on the verge of _supernova_ fury, Kathryn."

Kathryn raised her eyebrows. "Well, that's very mad."

"Just as I said." Seven seemed to compose herself. "What happened at one hundred hours is unacceptable."

"Oh, you'll get no argument on that one."

"However, excluding me from notification was a complete violation our special relationship."

Janeway offered a sympathetic expression. "Does it help to know I was unconscious after the attack?"

Seven shattered the glass she held in her Borg hand. The bits cascaded to the floor. The water spilled down onto her thighs. "What. Attack?"

Janeway inhaled sharply. "I misspoke," she blurted. "I meant confrontation."

Seven slid to the end of the table to leave.

"Wait, Seven!" Janeway, being smaller than her tall lover, bounded out quickly. "I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

"You want to hurt the men who confronted me."

Seven pushed herself out. "Incorrect. I want to terminate their vital signs."

Janeway stepped closer, the heat of Seven's body almost making her delirious. "You can't do that."

"That also is not factual. I can easily snap their necks."

"Please don't," Janeway pleaded quietly.

"Why should I not? They have threatened you. They have threatened our child. They may have injured either of you."

"What if some creature is manipulating them?"

Seven went still. "Then it would not be their liability." She looked out for a moment, her eyes sweeping the pub. "The Chief Medical Officer was not unconscious."

The question surprised the Captain. "What?"

"The back-up EMH was also in full possession of his faculties and was present outside the pattern buffers."

"Darling…?"

"I refer to your medical emergency, Kathryn. There was no reason they could not have alerted me."

Janeway took Seven's hand, surprised to find it shaking. "I can see this is very upsetting."

Seven immediately withdrew her hand. "It was more than upsetting for me."

Without breaking the gaze, Janeway reached down again and took Seven's hand, bringing it to her lips. She kissed the backs of her fingers one by one. "I profoundly regret how it was handled, Seven. I can see that I have hurt you immeasurably."

Janeway gestured toward the booth. "Let's talk about it, just the two of us."

Seven returned to her perch and Janeway could almost hear the woman purr when the Captain slid in beside her. After waiting several long minutes, the Captain resumed a conversational tone. "I don't think you've ever visited the Fair Haven program before now. Have you?"

"No," she said, looking around. "I have not, but I was in error."

"I would have thought you found the entire experience pedantic at best."

"I wanted to talk to someone about you."

"And who better than a hologram?"

"No, who better than someone you loved."

She softened her gaze. "I know it is difficult to love a starship Captain. My mother commented on it often enough when we were growing up. How did you know about Michael?"

"Idle talk in the Mess hall. One picks up quite a bit."

"Ah. Did he help?"

"Yes. He helped clarify my desire."

"And?"

"Did you realize, Kathryn, that the doctors had no obligation to summon me?"

Kathryn inhaled slowly. "I never intended to exclude you. Darling, please forgive me. I promise it won't happen again."

"It will not, as I want our relationship formalized."

Kathryn's eyebrows cinched together. "It is, Seven."

"No, our personal relationship."

"You mean, you want to what? Announce that we live together?"

"No, not exactly."

"I've asked you to be patient with me. I am still trying to integrate—"

"I believe I've been sufficiently patiently."

She scratched her head. Then rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "So what did you have in mind, Seven?"

"Marriage."

"Marriage?" The word spit out of her and drew startled glances. "That's a big step. Why don't we just let people know that we are exclusive—"

"Unacceptable. I do not wish you to have go through another procedure alone."

Kathryn reached over, rubbing Seven's hand. "Oh, darling."

"I do not want you to kiss Michael any longer—"

"Ho, boy! What exactly did you two talk about?"

"I do not want you to entertain male diplomats without another party present—"

"Seven! You make me sound like a—"

"I do not want Chakotay trying to pressure me into sex anymore."

Kathryn felt herself prickle with fury. "Is Chakotay harassing you, Seven? Is that what this is about?"

"No, he is not bothering me. I can repel his interest, as I have none in him. But I do not want to have to hide what I feel for you."

"Seven, my love," she replied, cupping Seven's hands on the table with her own. "I don't want to hide either. It's purely a Delta Quadrant related issue. It has nothing to do with how strong I feel for you."

"I want our child to be legitimate."

Kathryn felt as if she were returning volley after lightning fast volley on the Velocity court, without regard to the laws of action and reaction. "Legitimate? I really must upgrade your reading material. Legitimacy went the way of the dinosaur after the Sex and Gender Civil Rights Act of 2064."

Seven studied the woman for a moment. "You have spoken about every tertiary issue, yet you have not answered the question about marriage."

"Are you asking me?"

"Yes, I believe I am."

She shook her head. "Seven, I think that a holodeck is not the time—"

"Incorrect. It is a proper time and place. If you do not agree to marry me, then…." Seven hesitated, but only for a moment. "…I do not agree to share your bed."

It was Janeway's turn to study the woman. "I don't like ultimatums."

"I want to be married to you, Kathryn. I want to be your equal—"

"Is that what this is about? Your rank? Darling, our public and private lives are separate. I believe—"

"It is easy to believe they are. But I desire to be on equal footing with you and Voyager."

"Me and _Voyager_?"

"She is your first love. I can accept polygamy where the third partner is an inanimate ship."

Janeway closed her eyes as she let her head fall back against the rest. "Polygamy," she whispered, laughing slightly. "Seven, we talked about this. There is so much that goes into a relationship—"

"We have one, Captain. We _are_ in a relationship—whether acknowledged or not. Formalizing it will afford me certain rights. I will accept nothing less."

Her eyes narrowed and her face hardened. "In any case, an ultimatum is an ultimatum."

"Like the ultimatum you gave me. 'We shall wait,' you said. 'We shall hide our love—"

"I didn't say that!"

"Regardless, it is the cumulative effect," she said logically. "As if I had any say in the matter. Ultimatum indeed!"

She rubbed Seven's arms. "Seven," she whispered. "Darling. Can we discuss this later?" She looked back, alarmed to see Michael staring at them with a gleam in his eye. She looked back at Seven, who had followed her gaze.

Seven stood up, hiccupping. "No," she slurred. "There is nothing further to discuss."

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose. "You cannot possibly be inebriated, Seven," she said curtly, all patience exhausted.

"Why is that?"

"Because it is holodeck beer," she replied enunciating every syllable, with a wide sweep of her arms. She lifted Seven's glass to her nose. "Holodeck water, in this case."

"Ah," she replied, straightening. "Then perhaps I used the occasion to speak my mind. I have read and encountered instances when intoxicated individuals enjoy a broader indulgence for their truth."

Janeway crossed her arms, frowning. "What's your truth?"

"Simply this: I love you." Seven noted the softening of Kathryn's face and the gentling of the eyes. At this stage, she would have melted into the woman, but Michael was making signs with his hands for her to stand her ground. "I know you love me—"

"I do, with all my heart."

"Then we should sanction our union publicly."

"We sound like a pair of Ferengi conglomerates."

"Regardless, it is what I require."

"What about what I want?"

"You want the same," she replied tersely. "But you are not aware of it."

Kathryn dropped her arms to her side, a frustrating frown bowed her lips. "I was wrong," she said. "The holodeck water has clouded your mind. Call me when you come to your senses."

As Janeway turned to leave, Seven called to her: "You may call _me_ when you come to _yours_!"

The Captain opened her mouth to speak, but her comm badge chirped instead. _"Captain, this is the Doctor. I need to see you right away. It's an urgent matter about the children."_


	4. Pandora's Box

**A/N: Sorry it took so long. Spring means antihistamines for me. That means my mind's too foggy for writing. Plus, the Borg mind is hard to decipher.**

**Quantum of Chaos**

**Chapter Four: Pandora's Box**

Exiting Holodeck One on the heels of Captain Janeway, Seven of Nine stepped lightly beside her lover. She caught a quick glance from the woman, but they walked in silence. The ship, with its usual hums and clicks, served as a witness to the quietude.

Their disagreement left Seven of Nine feeling confused from the jumble of feelings cascading inside of her. She could not really separate the boiling emotions, much less name them or control them. They were kicking up recollections and, as Borg, Seven's memories were infallible. Today, they were also unwanted and mistimed.

As she walked beside the Captain, eidetic memories that should have been joyful were reminders of what she lost returning to Voyager.

=/\=

The Gweelee sun was rising in the west brushing the yellow sky with purple. Seven came directly from the restaurant at the end of her shift to the apartment rooftop where Mr. and Mrs. Commagees were celebrating their fortieth union anniversary.

Seven stepped to the door, easily the tallest person there. She scanned the room for her lover. Others waved and she returned the greetings, but kept searching. Finally she caught a glimpse of Kathryn conversing among a group of her friends, all law enforcement officers.

She slowly picked her way toward the woman, managing to greet some of the restaurant clientele, chefs and their families along the way. All told, it took her approximately thirty-point-seven minutes to cross the rooftop and retrieve beverages for her and Kathryn. Officer Byth Apoda made a humorous comment because Kathryn chuckled quietly but her indigo eyes followed Seven closely as she traversed the rooftop catlike and elegant.

_Kathryn's auburn hair was long enough to pile on top of her head, held by a silver star clip that Seven had given her. Stray strands spilled out around her face, twisting along her temples to frame her sun-kissed face. Her blouse was sleeveless, unbuttoned seductively low. Her brown skirt was long, fitting along her curvy body. _Quite provocative_, Seven thought. She could not remember Pips looking so lovely. Clearly Starfleet uniforms were designed to obscure sex appeal, she decided._

Seven stepped up to the small group, standing beside Kathryn. "Kathryn," she said, placing her hand at the small of her lover's back.

The smile she received in return was brilliant. "Hello, darling," she said.

Kathryn rocked to her tiptoes to kiss Seven full on the lips, heedless of the group of men. She chuckled at the measured look of surprise in Seven's eyes. "I missed you, Andy." Then Kathryn nestled against Seven, burrowing her shoulder into the side of her tall lover.

Seven finally regarded the others when Byth cleared his throat. "Well, hello, darling," he said in an exaggerated mimicry, drawing out laughter from the other deputies.

Seven flushed until she saw Kathryn laughing along. "Greetings," she said with a short nod. "However, I do not understand why you imitated my-my-" she glanced at Kathryn, who was smiling brightly with curious expression on her face. Seven blinked, committing the look to memory. Kathryn was relaxed, obviously enjoying some of Seven's co-workers and content in the open expression of affection.

"Your what, Seven?" Byth asked.

Seven turned to regard Byth Apoda, a tall, portly native with pale blue skin and yellow eyes. He bobbed his rhomboid head and his golden insignia of office glinted at his left breast over his pressed white uniform.

"I do not understand your impersonation of my wife." She felt Kathryn press into her and she felt a distinct purr from the woman. The subtle encouragement gave Seven more confidence to speak openly of their love affair. "Yes, my...lovely...wife."

Byth's snort ruffled the gills at his neck. "Never realized what a smooth talker ye are, D'puty."

"You suggest my comment was empty flattery but they are not," she said, with an arrogant lift of the chin.

But Seven's bewilderment grew when even Kathryn joined the merriment.

"I think someone is trying to get lucky_!" Byth said._

She blinked, as her companions—including Kathryn—laughed louder. "I do not understand the role of luck in this...." The comment drew louder, heartier guffaws and then Seven felt a beefy slap on her back.

"Maybe, ye'll get laid tonight," Byth said carefully before he took a sip of his kaybayhay, a native alcohol.

Seven tipped her head and studied the law enforcement officer who had deputized her. Her expression was serious as she considered his words. "But of course, I will lie down for regeneration."

Byth spewed out his drink, coughing profusely while the others mocked her. She glanced at Kathryn, who scratched the side of her nose even as a sheepish grin stretched its way across her lips.

"Have I misspoken?"

Byth cleared his throat. "Ye must be as pure as a mineral spring," he said dryly.

"Shite and sassafras!" one of them coughed. He had the same blue skin and yellow eyes, but was much shorter.

Seven was about to speak again, when she felt a warm hand on her arm. She looked down to find Kathryn's touch there. Then she gazed into eyes so gray they looked like sparkling granite.

"They are teasing you, Seven," she whispered.

"And what great sport it is!" another blue-skinned fellow yelled, lifting his mug. When he drank, they all followed suit as if the entire move was choreographed.

"I do not understand, Kathryn," she said.

"Explain it to 'er, Kat!" Byth said with a tip of his flagon.

"Yeah, Kat. 'Splain it to us all!" one of them slurred.

Kathryn's whisper tickled Seven's ear. "It's a play on words, darling."

"Louder, darling!" one of the men grumbled.

She forced a polite smile at the man, as she settled a hand on her hip. Kathryn pivoted to Seven, her expression turning to laser focus. "Laid is colloquial for having intercourse."

"Oh, for the love of King Tryto! Use the juicy words!" One of the other officers garbled.

"_Like—!" The second lad was elbowed by Byth._

"_Have ye any sense at all, Shel? There are ladies present," Byth added, earning a grateful nod from Kathryn._

Seven peered around at her near drunk and excessively mirthful comrades. Then she looked at her lover, who had paled during the discussion. "I did not realize that discussions on copulation could be so humorous."

"Mrs. O'Nine!" Byth finally said. "How do you put up with her? Seven's so dry she probably farts sand!"

The men guffawed loudly. Kathryn grimaced good-naturedly at the vulgarity while Seven's stoic expression remained firmly in place. "I think our friends have been swimming in too much kaybayhay," Kathryn noted. "Perhaps it's time we retire."

Seven gazed around at her usually respectful coworkers and took Kathryn's hand, kissing the knuckles without losing contact with her coworkers' eyes. "It is time to regenerate," Seven pronounced to catcalls and whistles.  


"_Sure it is!" one of them hooted._

_  
Seven tugged Kathryn's arm as they made their way through the crowd. As they descended the stairs to the floor of their apartment, Seven stopped them at one of the landings. She whirled Kathryn around, taking her in both arms. "Kathryn," she said. "I apologize for my reaction—"_

Kathryn laid her wrists on Seven's shoulders, letting her fingertips brush the woman's shoulder blades lightly. "It was all good fun, Seven. A little off color, perhaps. But I know they meant no harm." Kathryn lightly kissed Seven's lips. "Other than to tease you."

"You do not mind the display?"

Kathryn smiled rakishly. "Being Mrs. O'Nine has distinct_ advantages." Kathryn's husky whisper sent shivers down Seven's spine. Kathryn grinned when she shuddered. "Besides, darling," she said conversationally. "It's a nice and needed break from old Captain What's-her-name." She pulled Seven against her. The Borg could feel Kathryn's own smaller breasts pressing into her. _

_On Gweelee, Kathryn could be Kat O'Nine_, Seven thought_._ _But on Voyager I cannot be Seven Janeway. _

"You will not allow me." Seven spoke aloud before she realized where she was and whom she was with.

"Seven?" Captain Janeway asked. "Did you hear what I asked you?

Seven blinked as she finally looked around. She and Captain Janeway had both stepped into the turbolift and the Captain was standing close to her. Seven again was struck by the tense set of her lover's shoulders and the small twin lines that parted her eyebrows.

Seven arched a brow. "I believe I was distracted."

Janeway nodded once, showing her renowned patience. "I was saying we'll get through this rough patch." Her eyes crinkled empathetically in a way that nearly melted Seven where she stood.

She opened her mouth to speak, but matching verbal sounds to the quagmire of emotions was impossible. To feel rejected by Kathryn had done more damage to her sense of balance than Seven realized. Soothing herself had always been complicated. But in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, it was futile.

She felt Kathryn's stare but faced forward, the picture of detachment.

"You believe that. Right, Seven?" Something in Kathryn's expression pulled Seven out of the internal turmoil.

"My feelings have radicalized," she admitted, continuing to look straight ahead. Seven heard Kathryn's erratic respiration but could not access the emotional data she needed.

"Computer, stop lift."

A chirp and a soft flutter in her stomach told Seven the lift was motionless. She opened her eyes to find Kathryn very close, watching her with a concerned look.

"Seven?" she whispered. "Talk to me."

"I cannot—I am having difficulty—"

A chirp echoed in the small confines of the lift, followed by the voice of Commander Chakotay. _"Captain, are you all right?"_

Seven came to attention, facing the duranium-composite sheeting of the turbolift door.

Kathryn let her head lob forward in exasperation. "I'm fine, Commander," she said.

"It's just we've received reports ship-wide that turbolift two was inoperable and the computer said—"

"Yes," she replied. "I understand. I'm fine and so is the lift."

"But—"

"That is all, Commander," she said with the full whip of command. "I'm on my way to sickbay. I'll meet you on the bridge after that."

"Very good, Captain."

Seven watched as Kathryn struggled with turning off Captain Janeway. The woman stood erect, tugging her tunic down. The worry lines that parted her brows returned but her expression softened. She stepped closer to the Borg, as her hand fell to capture Seven's hip.

Seven closed her eyes as her thoughts careened wildly. She desired to be elsewhere, dealing with something manageable like an Astrometrics report on the new class of nebula they were currently in.

"Don't shut me out, darling." The whispered words tickled her ear, stirring the unmet needs Seven tried to block from her consciousness.

"Kathryn," Seven replied softly.

"Trust me."

Seven shuddered. That was an order she had submitted to long ago, before she realized that she was in love with the woman. Love! Before Voyager, it was a four-letter abstraction largely deemed irrelevant by the Collective. Sentiments as irrational as love were inefficient. But now, Seven of Nine could function without oxygen before she could relinquish love. But if love were to evaporate in her hand, then what?

Seven's eyes snapped open. "I would rather die."

Kathryn stumbled back from Seven, her face pale as if the Borg had struck her.

Seven felt confused for a moment, lost in the myriad of thoughts that she found difficult to classify. "Kathryn?" she asked weakly.

"Computer, resume!"

Both women lurched slightly when the lift began its descent. Seven floundered as she struggled to explain the conflict between her internal musings and their external dialogue, but words remained elusive. "I have erred," she said.

Kathryn continued to stare at the lift controls, her face implacable.

The lift dinged and the door slid open. Kathryn spoke without regarding her lover. "Remember what I expect." She glared up.

Seven arched an eyebrow at Kathryn. "I expect professionalism. Keep our private issues…." She slowly turned to glare up at the taller woman. "_Private_."

Seven floundered for a reply, though outwardly she appeared to be perfectly poised. "Nor did I expect that we would resolve our conflict during a short turbolift ride."

"Me neither," Kathryn growled, exiting the lift without her Astrometrics Officer.

Seven stared uncomprehendingly at the spot where Kathryn had stood. In some ways, this dynamic was not new. They were known jokingly around the ship as "oil and water" because their relationship had always been somewhat adversarial. But since they'd become lovers, they'd never quarreled. Seven did not realize how frail their relationship truly was until this moment.

Seven made a mental note to perform a diagnostic on her Borg systems. Perhaps that would explain her inability to articulate properly. Perhaps she should consider returning to the Borg Alcove to regenerate. Then Seven considered her lover's state. She was functioning without coffee, a distinct disadvantage. Perhaps she was more injured during the attack than the Doctor realized. Or perhaps Kathryn's prickly sensitivity was a symptom of the pregnancy. She planned to make an inquiry at the next opportunity.

=/\=

With her emotions completely submerged, Seven was battered with more alarming data. She felt herself blanch and saw Captain Janeway's jaw muscles jump as the Doctor, along with his holographic colleague, summarized a report they just completed.

"Let me make sure I understand this, doctors," the Captain said. "All of the children on board are growing at accelerated rates?" Janeway shared a look with Seven.

One of the identical holograms nodded, adding: "The growth is inversely proportional, meaning that the younger the child, the faster the growth."

"Yes, but I caution you both. It's a numbers game," the other medical hologram said. "Statistically speaking, an inch for Icheb is less significant as a percentage of the whole than say for Naomi or even Dani."

"But it is not just height or weight, as you stated earlier," Seven asked.

"No, of course not. It's total growth. Height, weight…" The Doctor shared a significant look before he said: "Puberty."

"They'll hit puberty sooner, rather than later?" Janeway groaned.

"If the current trends continue, yes."

Janeway's face contorted in frustration. "Why, Doctor?!"

He took a deep and unnecessary breath. "Our working hypothesis—"

"For both the crew's behavior, as well as the growth in the children," the other doctor clarified.

"Yes, they are most certainly linked," the Doctor said with a subtle pique as he glared at his colleague. "Our hypothesis is that these are all symptoms of the same stimulus or viral agent or outside force."

The other hologram blurted: "But, Captain, we need a stable power source—"

She held up a hand to silence the second hologram, keeping her gaze on the first. "Stimulus? Viral agent or outside force?" Janeway stopped and stared at the first doctor for a long minute.

The Doctor nodded once, waiting for a more incisive inquiry.

Janeway's face tensed slightly. "Doesn't that describe just about _anything_?"

"It's the best we can do at this—"

"Not acceptable, Doctor!" Janeway stepped up to him, leveling a glare that should have burned out his imaging processors. "Not acceptable by a long shot."

Captain Janeway pulled herself away, raising her hands to gesture at the larger medical facilities that Voyager enjoyed. "You have state-of-the-art equipment here, doctors. Even on the Delta Flyer you were able to find my ailment."

"That's because…!" The first doctor seemed startled with his own volume. "I'm sorry, Captain. I'm as frustrated as you—"

Captain Janeway whirled on her Chief Medical Officer. "Oh, I seriously doubt that. Not even close."

"The ship's systems are affecting diagnostics," the junior medical officer said. "When they take down the bio-neural gel packs, it means I—it means we can't perform diagnostics in sickbay."

Janeway eyed him carefully, before renewing her pacing. "Tell me what you know."

"Take Dani, for instance," he said, projecting her growth charts onto a three-dimensional chart on his desk. Both mothers turned, breathless, to spy the graphic information. "She's grown two inches in two weeks."

"That would account for her insatiable hunger for protein biomatter," Seven replied.

"It seems all of the children are experiencing a voracious appetite."

Janeway closely studied the upward trend over time. "Could whatever is affecting growth also stifle caution? Perhaps enhance risk-taking?"

"Perhaps," he said provisionally.

Seven considered the projections of their daughter's growth as well. The image flickered once. "Tell me, Doctor. Is the accelerated development of the children also affecting the unborn subunits?"

Janeway's eyes widened, a micrometer. Janeway's splayed hand covered her own middle. "What about the baby? All of them. All forty-five babies?"

"Forty-four," the younger EMH corrected, earning a blast of Janeway's unspoken frustration.

The older Doctor stepped closer. "Let's take a look. Shall we?" The medical tricorder whined its way up and down the Captain's middle. "Baby Girl Janeway has grown exactly half a millimeter since this morning," he said, reading the tricorder. Then he looked up, with a genuine smile on his face. "That means that she's growing normally."

"Doctor," Seven said in neutral. "Is the subunit in any danger?"

He shook his head, pursing his holographic lips. "The fetus seems normal in every respect. This is consistent with the other fetuses on board. Perhaps the placental barrier is limiting an organic exposure."

Janeway ducked her chin and resumed her pace. Seven noted that Kathryn slipped into an almost meditative pacing whenever she was disturbed. Her voice would drop and her arms would punctuate key words with aggressive slashes or stabs in the air. Seven's eyes followed the shorter woman as she traversed the Doctor's office several times.

"Captain, if I may?" Junior said, glancing uncomfortably at his colleague before beginning. "I can assure you, we have Voyager utmost in our minds. And I want it noted for the record that I am not a traitor." He glanced again at his colleague. "I put Doctor Gräfenberg in stasis—"

"I told you! That's not my name!"

"I'm sorry," Junior said, his glare saying otherwise. He turned to face the Captain, not registering her complete bewilderment at his sudden change of subject. "I put the good Doctor—"

"Wait a minute," the Captain said, leveling another flare of fury at the older hologram. "You leaked sensitive information about our situation?"

"I'm sorry, Captain," he said. "But we had to have a thorough talk and after reviewing his programming, I made the decision to trust him."

She inhaled sharply. "So it seems I must also." Janeway eyed him closely.

"And I don't think my trust in Dr. von Behring has been misplaced," the other doctor finally added.

Janeway blinked. "You've chosen a name?"

"Well, I'm giving it a test drive," he said, holding out a hand. "Galen von Behring at your service."

Janeway clasped the hologram's hand and shook once. "It has a ring, Dr. von Behring," the Captain conceded. "It's nice to see progress in one area of the ship."

Janeway crossed her arms over her chest. "Now that we are all on the same page, I want a solution, gentlemen. And I want it yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Dr. von Behring said incredulously. "That's imposs—"

The Doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly at his colleague before he continued. But the younger doctor did not understand the subtlety. "What? What about our power needs?" he asked shrilly.

Janeway noted that Dr. von Behring was significantly higher strung than the original doctor. She wondered again whether he had become truly sentient, as the first EMH.

"I'll speak to Engineering about it," she finally replied. "In the meantime—" Janeway pivoted back around.

"When can we can we expect—?"

"Dr. von Behring," Janeway replied. "I'll see what I can do. But I want you both working on this problem round the clock. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," they both replied in stereo.

=/\=

"Janeway knows." Chakotay's words echoed through the dimly lit shuttle bay.

The men and women around shifted uncomfortably. Chakotay had known many of them, having led them as their Captain aboard the Maquis ship, _Val Jean_. By the gods, he would lead them again.

There were new faces, welcome additions. Lt. Harry Kim stood beside his mates, Megan and Jenny Delaney. He considered Harry to be his finest transformation. The man was a walking paragon of violence. All it took was to get Harry to take down Ensign Molina, who'd defied Chakotay once too often during their six months of virtual incarceration aboard the U.S.S. Voyager. The acting Captain had entered the deadly altercation as an "operational accident."

Chakotay continued to weave his way among the group of one hundred and fifty men and women. Some were standing, others crouching. "You heard me right," he said. "Three of our own got a little antsy last night. Janeway thought she could sweep it under the rug. But they did their duty."

He stopped, turning on his heels. "That means we move our plan up." They were ready. He could feel it. "When I give the signal, Voyager will be ours again."

Chakotay smiled because that meant Seven would be his. Unlike the other slags he'd bedded, Chakotay was planning on keeping Seven for a long, long time. She would be his coup de grace for Captain Janeway.

He could separate the tight pair once and for all. He imagined he'd tell the woman that somehow the Captain and Eridani Janeway had gone missing. No one would be able to find them. The grief of losing that brat and her mentor would drive Seven into his arms.

Now he just had to decide the good Captain's fate.

His smirk vanished when the shuttle bay doors slid open. B'Elanna Torres sauntered in like she owned the whole damn ship.

"What are you doing here?" Chakotay growled, causing the men in the group to come to full alert. Some of the men marched toward.

She folded her arms across her chest and offered a sassy grin, completely unruffled by the testosterone choking off the air in the room.

"This is what I'm doing here." The Klingon's abrupt movements brought several phasers to bear on her. But all she did was tear her Starfleet uniform sleeve from the shoulder.

B'Elanna raised her arm, her muscles taut from a tightly fisted hand. Across her forearm was a crude tattoo drawn in red: "Live Free or Die."

"You gave me this damn tattoo when I first joined the Maquis. Do you remember?"

Chakotay lifted his chin. "I've always remembered. I thought you were the one who forgot."

"Maybe I did for a little bit. I was a little stir crazy." She let her arms drop and flung the sleeve over her shoulder in a cavalier move.

His face was skeptical. "What's changed?"

"Fucking Janeway. That's what! My husband is dying." She looked around at the faces of some of her friends and some of her enemies. Then B'Elanna settled on her former Maquis Captain. "Tom Paris is one of us and he is dying. And that bitch…!"

The force of the last word was so forceful, B'Elanna felt spittle rain on her chin. She wiped it with the back of her hand. "The moronic captain told the doctors to concentrate on her own daughter and those Borg spawn."

Tears welled in her eyes and she growled them back down, swallowing them in a raw throat. "Anyway," she said, blasting an expression of full Klingon hatred at Commander Chakotay. "I'd rather serve the bastard I know…."

Chakotay laughed first. Then the others followed suit. He eyed the half Klingon woman. "You're just in time. I have something very special for you to do."

"Kahless, Chakotay! Is this the bad-ass Maquis or did I confuse it with the kadis-kot league at the retirement home?"

Chakotay rubbed his nose once with a hand, laughing. "Get your bitch stick ready."

A sneer rippled across her lips. "Just say when?"

=/\=

After his duty shift, Chakotay made his way to deck three, followed closely by his right hand, Harry Kim. He knew the man had something unpleasant to say and he waited for him to have the balls to say it.

Just as he stepped off the turbolift, nowhere near his quarters, Lt. Kim cleared his throat.

About time, Chakotay thought. But he had no intention of making it easier.

"Commander," he said, deepening his voice.

Chakotay stopped just shy of the lift exit. "What is it, Harry?"

"Please tell me you don't trust, B'Elanna."

Chakotay studied the man. The nick on his right eyebrow and the scar running down his chin gave him a rough-hewn look, something he desperately needed. But the baby-face still loomed bright. "No, I don't," he admitted. "And if I did, there's still the matter of paybacks."

"And paybacks are tough."

"That's right," he added. "But that doesn't mean we can't use a traitor to get what we want. If she disposes of the Captain, then she can take the fall."

Kim nodded once. "What's your plan for me?"

Chakotay smiled, patting the man on his baby-fat insulated cheek. "You aren't very scary."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Oh, no," he said. "For what I've got planned, it isn't. I just hope you are man enough."

"You know I am," he said. Harry frowned to hear the crack in his own voice.

Chakotay laughed from the belly and Kim felt his chest tighten. "Dammit," he whispered.

=/\=

Kathryn floated in that serene plane between the oblivion of sleep and the sensibilities of wakefulness. The earthen smell of the apartment seemed strangely comforting. The mattress was softer and the bedroom brighter than she remembered.

Seven's hand was loosely fisted and drawn against her bare belly. Kathryn could feel coarse hairs prickling her ass and delicious pink tips nudging into her back. In any second, the alarm would sound and her lover would jump out of bed to start her day at Mr. Commagee's restaurant.

Kathryn wiggled around. "Good morning, darling," she whispered without opening her eyes. Her lips found the soft, taut muscles of Seven's neck.

She felt long, sensuous arms snake under hers and tug her closer. She moaned when their breast tips pressed together. She slipped a knee between Seven's long legs to feel the velvety center already glossy with anticipation. Her mouth opened to welcome a kiss when the computer chirped. _"The time is five hundred hours. Duty shift change due in one hour."_

Kathryn jumped, her arms flailing out onto an empty bed. She bolted up, blinking at the stray strands tangled in eyelashes. She batted at her face as she looked around her own quarters. "This is the ship," she whispered hoarsely. "Voyager."

After any other dream, those words would have been consolation. Today, they were a sentence of solitary confinement; welts of aggravation and frustration jarred her from a yearning so profound that her subconscious mind had found a way to give her what she needed most.

Kathryn flung the sheet wide. Her pajama top was twisted and she angrily yanked it back and forth until it fell correctly over her body. She'd always loved her sleepwear, until she became accustomed to lying nude next to her lover.

"Computer," she husked as she scratched an eye. "Locate of Seven of Nine."

"_Seven of Nine is in her quarters."_

Janeway stole a one-eyed glance at the chronometer. Of course, Seven was in her quarters. It was five hundred hours after all. She rolled out of bed, grabbing her robe as she strode out of her quarters and across an empty corridor to stand before Seven's door.

When Seven of Nine opened the door of her quarters, her breath caught to see Captain Janeway, one hand resting on a hip and the other leaning on a bulkhead. Her robe was carelessly open and the belt hung nearly to the floor on one side.

Kathryn slowly lifted her chin. Dark rings circled the deep blues and small lines wrinkled her temples. "Captain," Seven said formally.

Kathryn's sleepy, crooked smile triggered a tsunami of tenderness in Seven's belly. "Can I come in, dar—."

Seven stepped away abruptly, gesturing toward the couch where Kathryn suddenly spied the back of closely cropped dark hair and bronze skin peaking out from a command uniform.

"I apologize," Kathryn said. "I didn't realize you had company."

Chakotay turned his smug expression in the Captain's direction. "I didn't realize you made house calls, Captain." He rose from the couch, an empty glass in his hand.

Kathryn blinked as her gaze quickly swept in the room. Three soiled dinner plates, a wine glass and a milk glass and crumpled napkins covered the small dining room table. A jumbled ball of silver playing rods for the Vulcan game kal-toh lay abandoned on the coffee table, along with a checkerboard and stacked red and black chips.

Seven remained in her blue biosuit, her hair hung lose about her shoulders, defiant blonde strands springing out.

Janeway heard Chakotay clear his throat and she slowly turned to see him, still completely in uniform. "Seven's bed head is adorable, don't you think?"

"Bed head?" Seven asked with an insulted overtone.

Janeway turned to her. Her voice was the perfect pitch of command to explain. "You're disheveled, Seven."

Seven's hand touched the top of her hair, the stubborn blonde strands bouncing back up after a quick rake of her hand. "How may I assist you, Captain?"

Janeway pulled her robe closed, cinching the belt tightly around her waist. "I was just wanting to check up on our daughter," she lied.

She saw Chakotay make a soundless "oh."

Seven's long silence was too long to be anything other than confusion.

"I'm assuming she's still in bed." Janeway glanced across the dimly lit room to Eridani's door.

"She is currently regenerating."

"Well," Janeway said, her equilibrium returning. "I am here to find out how she slept after the unfortunate incident in the holodeck."

"What unfortunate incident?" Chakotay asked with a hint of laughter.

"It seems the ship's younger crewmembers believe they are quite the—" Janeway stopped to stare at the Commander. "It was in the duty summary yesterday. Didn't you read it?"

"Not yet," he replied. "I've been dealing with other issues."

"Such as?"

Chakotay's eyes narrowed, letting Janeway know he heard the challenge in her voice. "Such as living quarters and workspace feasibility studies," he said, each word spoken as if they were merely reminders of what the Captain should know.

She scratched her head, a little discomfited. "You have more tasks to complete in the next few months than most First Officers in Starfleet have in five years."

"Well," he said. "It's a good thing you have me then."

He turned to wink at Seven, who responded by looking away.

Though Janeway knew the answer, she couldn't resist asking. "So did you two just start out early or…."

Janeway watched her lover's lips press together almost imperceptibly before she answered. "We have been reviewing long-range sensor sweep data," Seven said, as if that explained it all.

"We'll need additional seeds, crops and soil," he added, again with a bored tone.

"It required more time than we had originally allocated yesterday evening," Seven added.

"Especially when you have an attention-starved girl buzzing around the room," Chakotay remarked with a snicker.

The comment stung the Captain. Without her years of experience at the mediation table with warring factions, Janeway might have recoiled from the cunning accusation that she was an unfit mother. Instead, she wandered around the living room table, looking at the games and padds strewn across it. She picked up a padd, thumbing through the active page.

Janeway smiled at what she saw, turning it off and stacking it with the others. She glanced at her fingers, which had become tacky from something smeared on the padd. She rubbed her hand against her thigh. "Dani craves new activities and additional stimulus," she said offhandedly.

"Highly intelligent children usually do," Seven added with a customary lift of her chin. Then she turned to fully face Kathryn, giving Chakotay her backside.

A corner of Chakotay's lips almost curled, one of the mirth touching his dark eyes. "Okay," he said, drawing out the word a little too long for Janeway's taste.

Janeway waited another moment, convinced he was about to raise the issue of returning Dani to her original universe. She wasn't sure what she would do if he raised it just now, when her emotions were still so raw from the quarrel with Seven. But Captain Janeway knew one thing for certain: there was no way in hell she'd ever let go of Dani—or Seven!

Reinforcing her inner resolve, Janeway finally relaxed her shoulders. Before she could speak, she saw her First Officer walked to the replicator, touching the keypad. "Coffee, black."

He took the pale blue mug with steaming hot, inky liquid that appeared in the replicator alcove. Then Chakotay walked gingerly over to the Captain. "I understand you need coffee," he said.

She took the cup, but frowned. "I'm sorry?" she asked, inclining an ear.

"Your T-shirt," he said, nodding with a chin.

She spread her arms to see the pale pink top that read in bold, black letters: "I need coffee."

"Oh, yes," she said, looking down. "A gift…" Janeway was careful to meet his eyes. "…from _our_ daughter."

The man went unreadable, but he watched her carefully. "Aren't you going to drink it?"

She looked at the liquid, its aroma singing its siren call to her. But the Doctor gave her strict orders to avoid it during the rest of her pregnancy. But the Captain couldn't very well explain that to Seven's ex lover.

"What's the matter?" he asked again.

But one swallow wouldn't hurt. Carefully avoiding Seven's eyes, Janeway touched her lips to the mug and tipped her head slightly. The pleasure she felt from the hot fluid running down her throat was genuine. "Good stuff."

Chakotay continued to stare at her and halfway through another long draught, Janeway finally registered the query in her First Officer's eyes. But to address it directly would be a major tactical error. So she did what all good diplomats do. She hedged. "What?"

"Oh, I was just curious that a Captain would be strolling down a corridor." He turned an incisive gaze to Seven. "In jammies. On a school night."

Janeway thought she saw wariness flicker in the pale blue eyes, just as it had in her own. Janeway decided humor was the best tool. "Well, Commander, since when do I sleep?"

A small dimple deepened at Chakotay's cheek.

She stabbed the inside of her cheek with a tongue, looking up as if thinking. "I suppose I could sleep in my uniform," she mused, fixing the collar of her robe. "Would save time, not to mention storage space." Janeway projected a bright smile. "Or I can trust my Bridge Officers to remember that my _jammies _do not necessarily infer that I'm asleep at the wheel."

Janeway felt a chill sweep the room when Chakotay's expression iced up. "No, of course not, Captain," he said, letting his big hands drop to his side. "It's just that _I've_ never gotten a nocturnal visit from you."

She concentrated hard on keeping her face placid and her shoulders loose. "No, you haven't," she admitted casually. "Nor have you ever fathered my child."

Just as he opened his mouth, Seven added: "Nor are you the primary custodian of said child."

His thumb brushed the corner of his mouth and then he nodded. "You're right," he said with a gust of laughter. "But it doesn't matter anymore."

Janeway felt warning klaxons sound in her mind at the offhanded remark. He took a padd lying on a sofa cushion and started toward the exit. "Thank you, Seven," he said, turning before he left. "You're a delight to work with, as always." Then his warmth vanished. "Captain," he said, as farewell.

After he'd gone, Seven walked silently to the table and began stacking the dirty dinner dishes. The clinking of porcelain was the only sound.

"What were you and Chakotay doing all night?"

Seven stopped to look up, but resumed her activity without a comment.

Janeway inhaled, scratching her eyebrow. "I'm—I'm sorry, Seven," she said softly. When Seven still didn't reply, Kathryn took the half-filled coffee mug to the replicator.

She waited further, hoping Seven was merely collecting her thoughts. "You're angry with me," Kathryn finally offered.

Seven lifted a brow and the Borg occipital piece, walking the glasses and silverware to the replicator station in silence.

Janeway stood with arms crossed as Seven turned away from recycling dirty dishes. Seven looked down at the redhead. Janeway knew that the bland expression was a dodge. It had to be. No one was that unfeeling.

Janeway pressed her lips together, allowing the sweetness of her dream to saturate her. She raised her hands in surrender. "You were right," she admitted, hoping to draw Seven into a dialogue. "I've deliberately avoided any circumstance where we'd be exposed as a couple here on Voyager."

Seven studied her for a long moment. Then she sidestepped Kathryn, making her way to the table.

Janeway stared at Seven's retreat. "You're giving me the silent treatment?"

Seven stopped, her hand midway to a spoon. She looked up at the opposite wall. "I have not had an opportunity to process the intuitive reactions nor to analyze them." Then she resumed her tidying.

Janeway splayed her hand on the green cloth placement Seven was about to take up from the tabletop. "Please don't shut me out," she said.

"I—"

"Cappie, why aren't you dressed?"

Janeway strangled an exasperated groan in her voice. She and her lover both turned to regard the tousled haired child rubbing her eyes across the room.

"Eridani," Seven said. "It is not time to consume ante meridiem biomatter."

Dani crinkled her forehead. "I heard Cappie's voice and thought she was here to pick me up for our jog around deck seven."

Seven turned a questioningly look to her lover.

"It's part of the consequences of their little holodeck incident," Kathryn explained.

Dani's eyebrows crunched together. "You're still going with us, right?"

Janeway tipped her head, regret etched around her eyes. "Actually, Ensign Biddle volunteered for that duty."

Dani's face fell and her shoulders sagged. Janeway felt her own stomach lurch at her daughter's palpable disappointment. "I never said I was going to run your PT training, Dani."

"Oh." Dani looked down, her eyes scanning the floor, while brushing at her eyes.

"Eridani?" Seven asked, setting the placements down. "Do you require assistance?"

"I was…." The eight-year-old dropped to her knees and turned her head toward the couch and away from her parents. She laid her cheek on the floor and cleared her throat. Again, she brushed her eyes. "I was looking for my shoes," she explained.

Seven raised an eyebrow at her lover. Janeway knew there was both displeasure and frustration in that action, but at least she wasn't ignoring her again.

Seven stepped over to the seating area, reached under a chair and withdrew a pair of simple single-strapped blue shoes with heart-shaped buckles. "Are these the shoes in question, Eridani?"

She sniffled under the couch, before she slowly rose to her feet. Her mothers noted the red-rimmed eyes as she took them. "I forgot something in my room," she said quietly, running back through the sliding door that connected from the living area.

"I must assist her," she said, in Janeway's general direction.

Kathryn watched Seven's sinuous length advance toward Dani's room. Seven slowed as she approached the door and finally stopped just shy of it, giving a half turn. "I believe we should continue our discussion later."

"I'd like nothing more," Kathryn said, smiling weakly. She was faintly disheartened when Seven did not react.

When she was alone, Kathryn closed her eyes and pounded her fists on her hips. She let her head loll back and rolled her shoulders. "Damn," she muttered.


	5. Mutiny's Detonation

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I'm glad you like the story, but there's still so much more to show. My favorite chapter of all time isn't too far off. _

_I goofed in Chapter Two when Janeway barfed on someone's boot. It should have read Mortimer __Harren__. I've since corrected it, but it's an important point. (If you remember your Voyager episodes, "Good Shepherd" had Janeway and Harren sparring. So it was poetic justice.) I mention that because Mr. Harren makes another few appearances, along with Crewman Tal Celes from that ep. Sorry about that. _

Some saucy words used by Lt. Fernandez

_Colonia=slum_

_Pinche pendejo=fucking asshole_

_Enjoy._

**Quantum of Chaos**

**Chapter Five: Mutiny's Detonation**

Astrometrics Officer Seven of Nine stared at the large screen before her while at her workstation. Magnificent cloud formations painted in red and yellow hues stretched across several light years of the unclassified nebula through which Voyager was now limping.

She tipped her head to study one in particular. It was cylindrical. "It resembles the warp core," she mused. Then Seven considered belatedly that it was phallic in nature and realized that this would be as close as she'd ever get to the male reproductive organ ever again.

Seven's fingers danced nimbly over the console controls, marking each parsec for mapping. She watched as the computer identified key structures—globular and proto-planetary structures, and gaseous formations. By and large, the unusual nebula was ordinary, a relatively recent formation to the folds of space.

Seven did not look away when she heard the lab door hiss open and footfalls approach. She turned slightly, raising a single eyebrow at this first-time visitor. "Crewman Mortimer Harren," she said. "How may I assist you?"

He looked around, pursing his lips. Seven was not sure if that expression was appreciation or disapproval. "Obviously," he growled. "Nicoletti sent me on a wild goose chase."

Seven ventured to scan the room, following the man's line of sight, trying to locate the cause for such uninformed commentary. "I believe you are in error," she replied finally, turning back to her console. "As Astrometrics does not stock feral waterfowl."

"Are you serious?"

She froze her hand midair to a control and gazed at him. Harren was approximately one-point-seven meters in height, seventy-two kilograms in weight, thinning blond hair, rude eyes and thick lips. His arms crossed insolently across his chest. Seven noted the smile, but it lacked charm. She considered classifying it as contemptuous, but decided the notation would be irrelevant.

"Why would I jest with you?" Seven asked. "You are neither a friend nor acquaintance."

Her infallible memory dredged up recollections two years back, when a ship-wide efficiency analysis written by her and submitted to the Captain and other senior officers revealed three under-performing crewmembers: Crewmen Tal Celes, William Telfer and Mortimer Harren.

Harren held six advanced degrees in Cosmology, but continued to prefer the mindless toil of the Plasma Relay Room on Deck 15. This data took mere nanoseconds to register with the ex-Borg.

"By all accounts, Mr. Harren, you shun relationships like the Vidiian flu."

Harren shook his head, breathing deeply. "Terrific," Harren drawled with a roll of his eyes. "A Borg who thinks she has a sense of humor. No wonder Nicoletti couldn't get any volunteers for this gig."

Seven did not rise to the bait but continued her work on scans and mapping.

"Well? Aren't you the least bit curious why I was sent?"

Seven glanced at the man casually and resumed her work yet again. "No."

"I'm going to tell you anyway. Main Engineering has been experiencing spatial anomalies with the warp field."

Intrigued, Seven looked up. "Have you repaired the warp drive?"

"No!" the impatient man snapped. "That's what we're trying to do. But every time we initialize it, the subspace bubble collapses within twenty seconds."

"Have you replaced the warp coils?"

He screwed his face up at her. "Yes," he whined with a crinkle of his nose. "We've replaced the warp coils! What do you take us for?"

"Do not be offended," Seven said mildly. "I was offering alternative solutions." Seven crossed her arms as she regarded the sensitive man with the oversized ego. "As _you_ are the one who came to _me_ for assistance."

He rolled his eyes again, sighing heavily. "I'm trying to give you the context because—don't interrupt me again!" Harren held up his palm.

"Very well," she stated finally.

"No wonder we can't get back home," the sour man groused. "Every nut is a Bridge officer."

She narrowed her eyes. "I believe that is an insult."

"You betcha," he said with a click of his teeth.

"What is it you need then—so that I may be done with you?" the Borg asked in deceptive monotone.

"Our sensors are not detecting any radiation that could explain that subspace bubble collapse."

She turned to the console, displaying several simultaneous charts of radiation. "As you can see, sensors indicate all known radiation amounts are within normal ranges."

"You know, I have access to the same data you're showing me," he replied. Then Harren stared at her with both eyebrows hovering high, waiting.

Seven clasped her hands behind her back and regarded the man with her most neutral stare. "Then what exactly do you require, Mr. Harren?"

He chuckled softly. "You're a lot feistier than I thought you'd be."

Seven's face was implacable. "Have you inquired with the Doctor about your condition?"

"What _condition_?" he asked, snapping back from the woman as if struck.

"Arrested development," Seven said, inspecting the man head to toe. "You appear to be an adult male, yet you are conducting yourself like a child. Or perhaps your _nappies_ are soiled."

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Is that the best you can do?"

"Mr. Harren, I am quite aware of your combative manner with other crewmembers, including Captain Janeway. I believe that the crew should work cohesively together, while respecting and appreciating differences. Regrettably, you do not subscribe to this philosophy."

Harren leaned against the console, lifting a leg to support himself. She glared at the move, but it did not stop him.

"Fascinating," he said, nodding as if in agreement. "Janeway's reprogramming seems to be going well."

When Seven ignored the taunt, Harren began to push a little further. "That's not necessarily good for you."

Seven inhaled, giving Harren a measured look, a sign he took to continue.

"If Janeway were in the Alpha Quadrant, she'd already been busted down to ensign for her raging incompetence. Her decisions have been emotionally charged and _criminal_." Harren spoke the last word slowly, emphasizing every syllable.

Seven's jaw muscles rippled. "Do not insult the Captain in my presence again."

"Or you'll what?"

Seven slowly turned her eyes on the man, with full Borg indifference. "I shall perform a radical splenectomy through your rectal opening with my Borg implant."

His eyes widened when he saw that her Borg appendage, usually appearing as a human hand, was now a gyrating whisk that she revved for his benefit.

"Um," he stuttered. "I won't—I won't do that again."

Her chain-mailed hand reformed and she resumed her work. "That is fortunate, as I am ill prepared for bloody surgical procedures at this time index," she said. "Moreover, the Borg implant has not been properly sterilized to preclude life-threatening infections." She stopped to regard him again. "But it would have been an irrelevant point in your case."

He swallowed visibly. "Wow," he replied quietly. "I'd heard the Captain had her own pet Borg, but—"

She stepped toward him menacingly, her Borg appendage in the middle of converting to the spinning concentric blades, ready to pounce when Mortimer raised his palms in surrender. "I'm sorry! I was just repeating what I'd heard."

"Idle gossip!" she hissed pounding a control button with her human finger. "This crew would have returned to the Alpha Quadrant within _one_ day of their arrival if they had invested as much energy into productive endeavors rather than vapid pursuits."

The man remained quiet, as she continued work on long-range cataloging. Finally, the Borg turned to the man again. "I believe we had concluded our business."

"Well, no," he said uncomfortably. "I still need to know if your sensors can detect some sort of radiation that we've never known about."

She lifted her head, tipping it toward the screen. Her fingers flew over the console as hundreds of graphs popped on the screen like bubbles, one on top of the other. When Seven stopped, there was a red graph with an upward red line trending higher over time.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Computer, classify radiation theta currently displayed."

"Cannot comply. EM radiation theta wavelength is shorter than the known light spectrum."

Mortimer stared at the data, a look of religious transfiguration on his face. "This is new!" he said with glee. "Do you know what this means?"

"I believe I do," she said matter-of-factly. "Computer, where does EM radiation theta originate?"

"_Unknown."_

"Was it present before Voyager entered this nebula?"

"_Negative."_

Harren stepped beside her at the console, tapping some other commands and bringing up new analyses of the unknown radiation. Seven watched him closely, but continued interfacing with the ship's computer.

"Computer, has it been present since?" Mr. Harren asked.

"_Affirmative."_

"What is its frequency?"

"_Ten to the twenty-fourth power hertz."_

"That's smaller than gamma rays," Harren said, still mesmerized by the sine wave currently displayed on the viewer.

"Gamma rays can cause serious damage to the human body," Seven stated needlessly. "Without our shields, there is no telling how this could have affected us…."

"Well, I suppose that explains all of the strange goings-on in Main Engineering," he said blithely. "We should probably raise shields."

Seven was already lost in her own thoughts, generating countless other data within a few minutes. "I shall inform the Captain," she replied absent-mindedly.

Harren turned to go, but looked back again. "Oh, and hold out for two treats. You deserve it."

Seven looked up to stare at the vacated exit for a moment, considering his comment. She stabbed the controls vigorously with her fingers as she worked. "The pet analogy is tiresome and infantile," she whispered acerbically. "Perhaps next time, Mr. Harren

will respond to a more _macabre_ diplomacy."

Seven wondered how much torque a human bone could absorb before it snapped. Then she was belatedly horrified by the violent thought. "I shall report to sickbay post haste."

=/\=

Seven stalled when she entered sickbay, hands behind her back and a padd dangling there. Dr. von Behring—complete with platinum locks—was hovering over Ensign Wildman. Seven noted that Naomi Wildman's mother appeared to be distressed and quite rotund around the midsection. Seven reasoned that it was beneficial that her Kathryn still retained her fit figure.

The Doctor spoke quietly to her, causing Samantha to shake her head violently. Samantha's hand flew to her mouth and Seven, with Borg-enhanced hearing, heard the distinct susurration of a weak cry and then a loud sob. "I said no!" she wailed.

The Doctor continued in low tones, finally leaving her side. His face was sharply drawn as he walked over to Seven. "What is the nature of the medical emergency, Seven?" Dr. von Behring shook his head. "I'm sorry. My greeting protocol has been altered and yet I keep saying the same thing."

Seven offered a polite nod, but her mind was focused on her task. "I have urgent news that may shed light on crew behavior."

"Let me call the Chief."

"The Chief?"

"I have to call him something. He refuses to entertain a name, nickname, alias, handle or even a _nom de guerre_! It's ridiculous. But he's the Chief Medical Officer…" Dr. von Behring shrugged. "Hence Chief."

"That is acceptable," she said. "Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"Because in nearly four years of my membership in this collective, no one has come close to providing him a suitable designation."

"Dr. von Behring to the Chief."

"_The _Doctor_ here."_

"There may have been a breakthrough in our case. Can you please—?"

The Chief Medical Officer materialized beside them, the mobile emitter attached to his arm. "What is it?"

In the Doctor's office, Seven detailed the discovery, showing charts and graphs. Both medical holograms were intrigued by the discovery of a new form of radiation and its possible effects on Alpha Quadrant species.

"How long has the crew been exposed?" the Chief asked.

"Those who remained on Voyager for repairs hid in this unclassified nebula," von Behring answered.

"Chakotay, Harry and the core group of crew members have had the highest exposure then," Seven said.

The two holograms gave her a significant look. "Gamma rays, similar to these theta rays, have been used by the medical community for centuries to target and destroy human cells—albeit cancerous," Dr. von Behring said.

"Perhaps the theta rays affect the human body differently," the Chief stated. "Computer, from Commander Chakotay's last medical checkup, extrapolate levels of theta ray exposure."

"Cannot comply. Those calculations are not available."

"Let's look at the symptoms," Dr. von Behring said, raising a finger for each one. "Aggression. Increased sexual appetite."

"I have noticed some of the crewman reporting for hair replacement therapy," the Chief noted.

"And rage," Dr. von Behring added, showing four fingers.

The two holograms looked at each other. "Testosterone poisoning."

"Computer," von Behring asked, "what were Commander Chakotay's last known testosterone levels?"

"Commander Chakotay's testosterone level was within normal range."

"That's odd," the Chief said. "I'm usually never wrong."

"Neither am I," his younger version replied.

"Computer," Seven said. "Apply a theta radiation filter for Commander Chakotay's results, utilizing file Seven-beta-epsilon."

"_Filter application complete."_

"Now access Commander Chakotay's last known testosterone level," the Chief ordered.

"Commander Chakotay's last known testosterone level was five thousand three hundred and fifty three nanograms."

"That's five times above normal!" Dr. von Behring shrieked.

"Calm yourself, doctor," the Chief said. He turned to Seven. "It seems we have tests to perform. Thank you, Seven."

She hesitated. "I believe I may be compromised as well," she said, describing her earlier experience of violent thoughts toward Crewman Harren.

The Chief waved a medical tricorder along her frame, after adjusting it to pick up the new theta radiation. "Well," he said, staring at the results. "It seems your testosterone levels are elevated as well."

"I am a female. How can I produce testosterone?"

"Ovaries do produce small amounts of the substance," von Behring stated, as his nimble fingers jumped furiously over a padd. "Otherwise, women would never become… shall we say, amorous."

"But too much can predispose you to aggressive tendencies, which may explain your reaction," the Chief said. "And the reactions of countless women on board." His face turned grim, realizing how the long-term ramifications of the massive exposure.

"I have felt _unreasonably_ aroused," Seven admitted quietly. "But I theorized that my recent…" She glanced uncomfortably at von Behring, before proceeding along a more indirect discussion. "My recent abstinence may be fostering my…fixation."

"You have sex?" von Behring asked. "With whom?"

Seven lifted her chin a millimeter, having no intention of discussing any further details. What little she had shared had been imparted for higher scientific goals.

"Now Dr. von Behring," the Chief said. "I believe those details are none of your business."

"Quite right," he said, showing the grace (and the programming) to blush. "I apologize, Seven."

She nodded once and turned to go. "Oh, Seven," the Chief said. "Go easy on Crewman Harren. He was the one who rescued the Captain from her captors, after all."

She looked over her shoulders, surprise etched across her brow. "Thank you, doctors."

The Chief turned to look at the projected charts and extrapolations that his colleague had been working on. He put a hand to his mouth as he considered their dilemma.

"It's the Captain," von Behring said.

"What is?" the Doctor asked absent-mindedly.

"Seven and the Captain."

The Chief offered the hologram a scathing look. "Can we stick to the urgent matter at hand, _doctor_?"

"Of course, of course," he replied. "I was just warming up my mystery-solving algorithms."

=/\=

As Seven stepped from the medical office, she heard a whisper from one of the biobeds. Lying on her side and rubbing her distended belly, Samantha Wildman called the Borg over.

"Ensign Wildman," Seven said. "How are you?"

"I've been better and I've been worse, Seven."

Seven tipped her head, unsure about how to respond. "You appear to be resting."

"Did you hear I'm having quintuplets?"

"That would explain your girth," Seven replied evenly.

Samantha chuckled. "But the babies are not doing well," she replied, looking away. "The doctors want to perform abortions—eliminate at least three of the babies," she whispered, looking down at her hand rubs her protruding belly. "That would give the others a chance."

"That sounds logical," Seven said. "But logic is secondary to a mother's instinct."

Samantha warmed to Seven's mild show of support. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what do you apologize?"

"Because Chakotay and I…well, he and I—he's the father."

"I was not aware of that," Seven said honestly. "But that is not a reason to apologize, unless you regret his sperm fertilizing your ova."

"I think he's still in love with you."

Seven's brows furrowed slightly as she absorbed this new data. "Yet, you both copulated and reproduced."

Samantha sniffled. "Yes," she whispered, barely audible.

"I believe Chakotay has erred."

Samantha tried to roll to her back, but the pressure was too great and she reluctantly rolled to the side again. "I know I did," she said. "I don't know what I was thinking—yes, I do! I wanted to _fuck_ him, Seven."

Samantha seemed to show surprise when Seven did not respond to the blatantly sexual turn of the conversation.

Seven gently laid her hand on Samantha's forearm, rubbing the woman with her thumb. "Loneliness is an appalling bedfellow," Seven whispered. "This I understand well."

"It was more than that," she sobbed. "It was like I was possessed or something. I think those damned lizards did something to me!"

Seven glanced over her shoulders at the doctors. They appeared to be having a heated discussion, no doubt about the new discovery. "I believe the doctors have a new tool to evaluate the crew," she said. "Particularly those of you experimented on by the Ket'zali."

Samantha tried to respond, but sobbed instead.

"Moreover," Seven said. "I do not believe Chakotay loves me."

Her eyes snapped up to the ex-Borg. "He said he does. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"I have not doubt he _believes _it," Seven replied. "But I have no such delusions about him."

"You don't?" Her voice seemed to animate suddenly. A lilt curling around the word that Seven had not heard earlier.

"I am in love, but not with Commander Chakotay."

Samantha flopped an arm across her forehead, relief sagging her shoulders. She studied the Borg through splayed fingers. She'd known Seven as both crewmate and friend. "I worried that you'd want him back and then I worried that he didn't want me and then I worried that—"

"I believe that worry is detrimental to your babies."

"You said 'babies,'" Samantha said softly.

"I did," Seven replied. "Is that not what they are?"

"Yes," she said, absent-mindedly rubbing her belly again. "But I thought a scientific mind like yours, one shaped by the Borg, would call them fetuses—like the doctors."

"Eridani has changed many things about me, Ensign Wildman. My view of subunits is one of them."

Samantha laughed. "Naomi calls the babies _subunits_, too."

"Does Naomi desire a brother or sister?" Seven asked, suddenly ashamed she had not inquired directly about her seven-year-old friend.

"She wants both," she replied. "But she doesn't understand what this will mean if we return to the Alpha Quadrant."

"To what do you refer?"

"Gres, my Katarian husband," she replied softly. "Adultery is grounds for all sorts of unpleasantness."

For the second time, Seven wasn't sure what to say; she wasn't sure what Naomi's mother wanted to hear. So she changed the subject. "After the babies are born, I would like Naomi to stay with Eridani and I during your convalescence."

"Thank you, Seven," she replied. "Naomi really likes Eridani. A lot."

Seven knew it was a lie, but she could not refrain from offering it as consolation to the woman lying broken on the biobed. "Eridani feels the same way."

"I'm glad," Samantha replied quietly. "We're going to need all of the friends we can get."

"When will the doctor's release you?"

"I came in with contractions—"

"Is it not too early to deliver the children?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "They gave me medicine to stop the contractions…." The blonde shrugged and scratched her belly.

"If you are not released from sickbay by sixteen hundred—"

"Dr. von Behring said he will release me within the hour."

"If he does not, please advise me so that I may collect Naomi when I do so for Eridani."

Samantha's face lit up. "Would you do that for me?"

"Why would I not?"

The pregnant and water-bloated woman closed her eyes. "I'm just losing a lot of friends right now."

"Like who?"

"Neelix," she replied, turning away. "He found out about Chakotay and, well, he's hurt."

Seven felt at a loss for words again, unaccustomed as she was to providing emotional support. "I must return to my duties," she said, turning to leave. "Please keep me informed on your condition."

=/\=

Marla Gilmore stepped into Voyager's Mess Hall, as she brushed her long blonde strands from the gold shoulders of her uniform. She felt almost too queasy even to stand, but knew from experience this past month that a little something would settle her stomach. Her brown eyes scanned the area as she stood in line to get some of Neelix' famous Moo Goo Mai Lan.

She saw Neelix' white top hat before she saw him behind the counter. "Hello, Mr. Neelix," she said with a big, tremulous smile.

Neelix returned the friendly expression, lifting the ladle beside his ear to entice her with its contents. "I'm told it's delicious today."

Crewman Gilmore lifted her bowl and watched as the Talaxian poured a generous helping of green kelp noodles and white eel meat into her bowl.

Neelix hesitated before adding the rice. "Are you okay? You're looking sick."

"No," she croaked. "I'm fine. I just need to eat."

He dropped a scoop of brown rice. "As we say on Talax, zuri unga!"

"What does that mean?"

"Bon appétit!"

"Now _that_ I know!" Her smile became forced as she contemplated sliding the eel and kelp down her gullet and her cheeks puffed out. She carefully avoided looking at the dish and started breathing through her mouth. "Thank you, Mr. Neelix."

His expression softened considerably. "If you ever need anything—anything at all, I hope you know you can ask me."

Marla stared at him for so long, until she started to hear crewmembers clearing her throat down the food line. She nodded at the short man once. "Thanks."

=/\=

"Did you see that?" B'Elanna asked her husband as she scooped a generous helping of Moo Goo Mai Lan into her mouth. She began to hum her way through the chewing.

"Yeah," her husband said. "It's immoral."

B'Elanna snapped her eyes back to her green husband. "What do you mean?"

He pushed the watery concoction around on his bowl. "Feeding this to us—let alone anyone who is pregnant. It's way beyond simple misdemeanor. It's at least a felony."

"I think it's good," she said looking down at her meal. "In fact, I feel like licking my plate."

"I think Neelix should call it 'Moo Goo My Ass,'" Tom Paris said, pointing a spoon at his wife. "It fits the crime, you know?"

"Would you stop already!" she growled. In alarm, the Chief Engineer looked around the Mess Hall, making sure know no one heard her. "Kahless, Tom! Every day it's the same damn conversation with you."

He looked up at her, his eyes wide and his lower lip caught tenderly between his teeth. "Well, excuse me," he said. "I didn't realize I was boring you."

The Klingon tipped her head and reached out to brush her fingertips along his green skin. "I'm sorry, Tom."

He grunted as he shoved more of the gruel into his waiting mouth. "So what were you talking about?"

She thrust a chin toward the opposite wall, where Crewman Gilmore sat down with some of the old crewmembers of the U.S.S. Equinox, a starship that had also been stranded in the Delta Quadrant, also. Its captain had abandoned Starfleet ideals and had attacked a race of aliens who had retaliated unmercifully. Only a few Equinox crewmembers survived.

"Guess what I heard?" B'Elanna whispered.

"What did you hear?"

"That Chakotay and Gilmore were…you know."

He drew his brows together. "I know _what_?"

She closed her eyes, gyrated her head in a sexy motion and waved a hand seductively. "You _know_!"

"Oh! Really? I thought Chakotay was still trying to get Seven back."

"Oh, I think he's still doing that. I heard they spent the night together last night."

The news gave made Tom stop his constant shoveling of food to his dark green lips. "Really?"

"But I don't believe it."

"Why not? Seven is a very sensual—"

She raised her unused butter knife to him. "Don't go there, Mr. Paris."

He flicked his spoon away. "All right! All right! But it was a disinterested comment since there's only woman for me."

"Nice save," she said. "But the thing is, Seven is different. So is the Captain."

"They're _friends_, B'Elanna."

"I don't think so."

"Wanna bet?"

The Chief Engineer eyed her husband from the corner of her eye. "Okay, what are the stakes and what passes for proof?"

"I'll bet you that there is no way in hell that Captain Janeway has had carnal knowledge of Seven of Nine."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "You might as well bet there is no Sto-Vo-Kor. It's not like we'll ever get proof of that."

"Well, I'm not exactly wanting to see the Captain rolling around the sack with a Borg…." He paused, his eyes growing briefly glassy.

"Tom?"

"Oh, sorry," he said, blinking furiously at his wife. "But I think you're right. So, we need reliable eye witnesses who actually _see _some exchange of body fluids."

The Klingon woman grimaced. "You know, you can really take the romance out of sex."

"I have to! I can't think about two women doing it without—"

"Stick to body fluids, Tom."

"Okay. You get the picture. Do you agree?"

"What are the stakes?"

"If I win," he said carefully and quietly. "I want…oral sex—"

"It's not like I don't—"

"—Without the bites, this time."

She crinkled her nose. "Fine, but you know it takes all the pleasure out for me."

"For one week."

"A week?!"

"What's wrong? It's not like it's forever."

"Fine. You won't win anyway."

"On the contrary, my little _toQDuj_. There is no way _you_ can win. Not with the Borg Princess and Captain No-way."

"You really don't call the Captain that, do you?"

"Are you crazy? Do I look like I want to spend the rest of the trip home hanging out of an air lock by a frayed rope?"

"I definitely see your point."

"So what it'll be?" he asked.

"What if I win?"

"Well, what do you want?"

She inhaled sharply, as if her thought was pure pleasure. "My feet rubbed, whenever I want for a week."

He crinkled his nose. "Are you sure you don't want to sexually enslave me for a week?"

"Yeah, I'm absolutely sure," she said. "This is my fantasy, remember?"

He shrugged. "I'm not worried. The odds of your winning are like zero to nil."

"That's redundant," the Chief Engineer pointed out.

"It just shows how bad your chances are." He laid back against the chair back, lacing his fingers over his stomach. He swayed slightly as he considered the amount of food he'd just consumed. "Besides, I'm not worried."

B'Elanna had already turned her mind to getting proof. It was an interesting puzzle that would relieve the tedium of twelve-hour shifts and looking at the back end of a warp core all day long. Just then her eye was caught by Lt. Kristine Fernandez, who sauntered into the Mess Hall. Just like most other crewman, the tall, naturally bronzed woman stopped to scan the room.

To B'Elanna's surprise, Fernandez headed straight to the last person the Klingon would have guessed. "Isn't that interesting," B'Elanna said.

"What?" Tom's head twisted around frantically.

"Fernandez just made a beeline to Gilmore."

"Are you going to suggest they are lovers too? Do you have a secret lesbian fantasy?" He asked, wagging his eyebrows.

She ignored her husband and continued to watch the pair. "They _are_ lovers, but not each other's. It's a _ménage-a-yuck_ with Chakotay."

Tom nearly gave himself whiplash when he turned to see them. "Really?"

"That's my guess."

He frowned, pounding his chest for a hearty round of burps, for which he did not offer the usual pardons. Tom grimaced at his third bowl of Moo Goo Mai Lan. "It sounds all very scientific, especially the yuck part."

"Look at them?"

He turned again to watch the two women talking, both stiff and gloomily. Gilmore finally nodded after a long dialogue. Fernandez marched out of the Mess Hall without a backward glance.

"Why can't people's lives be as interesting as a holonovel?" he droned, rubbing his head. Tom punched his chest again, trying to loosen up another belch to relieve the pressure.

B'Elanna turned to regard her husband with a scowl. "What are you saying? That now I bore you?"

"Nothing, B'Elanna!" he squeaked, still pounding. "Besides, I was kidding."

After a long hiccupping burp, Tom's stomach growled loudly.

She stared down at his mid-section. "You're hungry already?"

"My belly may be hungry, but the rest of me feels like shit." He tried to stand, but nearly fell over. The only thing saving him was the quick and sure arm of his strong wife.

"Do you think something's wrong?"

"I think something's been wrong since we got back from the lizard ship."

"I mean now, more than usual?"

He tried to stand on his own, but had to grab the table again to steady himself. "Oh yeah. That damn 'Moo Goo My Ass.'"

Despite the joke, B'Elanna looked worried. She slipped her arm around his waist. "Let's go. I'll help you to sick bay."

Two steps away from the table and the Chief Engineer heard a chirp. "_Chakotay to B'Elanna."_

"What is it?" she rumbled.

"_It's time."_

"Now?!"

"_It's already started. I couldn't stop it if I wanted to."_

"Shit!"

"_What?"_

"I'm helping Tom to sickbay."

"_Now or Never. Chakotay out."_

"What was that?" Tom wheezed.

"Chakotay's mutiny," she whispered.

"Ah, Operation Fool's Errand."

"Technically, the first name of an operation is supposed to have two syllables and the last just one."

"Can you cut me some slack? I'm changing colors here."

She pulled back to assess him. He did appear to be a deep spinach green, rather than the bile color she'd grown accustomed to. "Tom, I don't want to leave you."

"I know," he said, lifting her chin. "But you've got to nip this mutiny thing in the bud. For the us and the baby."

"I love you." She pecked his cheek, their lips barely touching.

"You'd better! We'll be entering a stressful stage soon."

"_Entering_? I thought we were lost there."

He stopped, putting bracing himself with an arm against the bulkhead. "You'll look back on these days and laugh and laugh."

"I hope you're right because I've really got to go."

"I know."

"How are you—?"

"Just go on already! I'll get to sick bay on my own!"

B'Elanna took one last look at her husband and strode out of the Mess Hall on full alert.

=/\=

Lt. Fernandez crossed her arms as she watched Gilmore descend the dark Jeffries tube to the landing strut bay located on Deck 15 toward the rear. Out of breath, Gilmore brushed her hands. "You wanted privacy," she said. "It doesn't get any more private than this."

Kristine eyed the woman, feeling an instant dislike to her. They were in the same division, but had generally never interacted beyond the customary. At least I'm not disgraced, Fernandez told herself.

Marla Gilmore had been the acting Chief Engineer of the U.S.S. Equinox, which meant she'd participated in the capture, torture and killing of the creatures the ship needed for propulsion. You can't get lower than that, Fernandez thought with a smirk.

Gilmore caught the snarky look. "What do you want, Fernandez? I'm busy."

"We're all busy," she snapped. "Some more than others."

"If you are suggesting—"

"Save it for your boss, okay? I've got bigger fish to fry."

"What are you talking about?"

"Commander Chakotay."

Fernandez watched Gilmore stiffen and her face harden. "I know you're pregnant," Fernandez said.

Gilmore placed a protective palm over her stomach and stepped back. "I don't see how any of this is your business."

"I'm pregnant, too," Fernandez said.

Gilmore relaxed a fraction, but her hand was close to her commbadge.

"Do you know who the father of you child is?"

Gilmore narrowed her eyes. "I'm not a slut."

"Oh, I didn't it mean it that way!"

"Yeah, well, maybe you did."

"Are you scared?" Fernandez asked.

The question took Gilmore by surprise and she stopped her exit.

"Well, I am," Fernandez added. "But I'm also mad as hell. I pulled myself up out of the _colonias_ of Chihuahua and I'm not about to let a _pinche pendejo_ like Chakotay cross me."

"What does he…?" Marla's eyes widened and then she shook her head. "Are you saying that Chakotay fathered your baby?"

"Yeah, he did."

She shook her head again. "But—"

"He fathered yours, too. Now I know the rumor is true," Fernandez said, her face implacable.

"What rumors?"

"He's been boinking a whole stinkin' harem of us." Fernandez started to count on her fingers. "You, me, Wildman, Harper—"

"Harper? She's just 21."

Fernandez shrugged stoically. "I told you he was a pig."

"Who else?"

"Romtau and Porter—that I know of." Fernandez laughed cynically when Gilmore's eyes watered.

"But—"

"I hear he's got Seven of Nine now."

"Seven?"

"I never thought the Frigid Bitch would soil her panties with the likes of him." Fernandez looked down to see Gilmore wringing her hands. "But we can confront him together—all of us. Let the piece of shit know he's done wrong."

Gilmore's face morphed into horror. "Janeway would throw me out an air lock with everything that happened on the Equinox."

Fernandez considered the scared blonde. She looked really innocent just now. She almost felt sorry for her, except she was in the same boat. "Mitigating circumstances, Gilmore. That's our defense. If you don't take a stand, he'll just breed you like a cow."

"But I love him," she said, fury and lust squelching the nausea.

Fernandez' cynical laugh echoed in the confined space. "We _all_ love him, darlin'. But the little shit needs a smackdown and we've got the right to do it." Gilmore remained confused and alarmed, so Fernandez added: "This is for our dignity, Marla."

When Gilmore didn't reply, Fernandez added: "Let's get the others and then we can find him, before you lose your nerve."

=/\=

A trim figure stepped into the shadowy cargo bay depths. "Computer, lights."

Bright lights illuminated the second of Voyager's cargo bays, revealing storage boxes made of tritanium. In the corner, eerie green lights flickered in one corner. This had been Seven of Nine's quarters for much of the past four years, after she'd been severed from the Borg.

Captain Janeway ran an elegant finger along the circumference of the regeneration alcove interface. Seven had subsequently been liberated from her connection to this device when the Doctor had performed a drastic procedure to replace her cortical node with his own invention. The device—dubbed "Omega 323"—was remarkably successful with the chief benefit being liberation from further dependence on the Borg technology still housed here.

Seven no longer stayed here, thanks to Eridani. Their daughter's arrival brought the Borg deeper in the folds of humanity, so much that she willingly relinquished this last stronghold to reside with the rest of the crew in customary quarters. Well, not completely customary. Lavish really by crew standards. Now she lived, with Dani, across the hall from Janeway in the VIP quarters. So close, but so very far, Janeway mused.

Janeway sighed, still hurting over the lover's quarrel. She wanted Seven to understand her reasons, though she realized she wasn't entirely sure of all of them herself. She only hoped fear was not one that lurked there in the back of her mind.

As if to break the hold of the fear of fear, Janeway turned briskly on her heels toward the airponics section. Vital to Voyager's existence, these plants had sustained them during their crucial first few years. With the help of vital alliances, they'd managed to restore most of Voyager's primary systems, relaxing the strict use of the replicators. But their recent battles with the lizards and Species 8472 meant they'd be eating off-world kelp, space prawns and borewor meat again for the unforeseeable future. Janeway didn't even want to know what borewor meat was.

The Captain turned a complete circle, walking slowly and letting her eyes gaze over each section. She glanced down again at the padd. She had been reading Chakotay's long range plans for converting Voyager into a generational ship.

Cargo Bay Two was key to his plan and it was going to happen, whether Janeway liked it or not. It wasn't ideal, not when they had to defend the ship and their very lives at nearly every turn here in the wild, wild Delta Quadrant.

No Starfleet captain relished the idea of babies or young children aboard. But the choices had already been made and the Chief had informed her that every woman had asserted their intention to carry the fetuses to full term.

Janeway rubbed her belly, where her child was still swimming in its own amniotic fluid. The baby girl inside of her had saved Janeway's life and the Captain had also asserted her own right to give birth. "Forty four babies and counting," she said to herself.

It was only logical that Cargo Bay Two would be reclaimed and divided into several quadrants including a nursery and playroom, staffed with "volunteers."

She wasn't sure who or how many volunteers they'd have. At the very least, the parents could be impressed into those duties and Janeway would be no exception, at least on a rotation basis.

The Captain glanced down at Chakotay's ambitious plan. There was something about it though that bothered her and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The report began with a morass of statistics, charts and projections. There were demographic projections that assumed five, ten and twenty year trip home. There were "minimal viable population" estimates.

She glanced down at the "Effective population size" approximations. "Of course," she said. "He was figuring far fewer adults in his initial projections than we currently have…."

Janeway narrowed her eyes as her mind worked fast. "Damn him," she said, slapping the padd against her thigh. She wasn't about to be a sitting duck, not on her own ship.

She marched to the door, ordering the computer to cut lights. The cargo bay door hissed open, but before Captain Janeway could step through her face met the blunt force of a meaty fist. The corridor went dark and the last thing she remembered was the back of her head hammering the hard deck.

=/\=

Inside Holodeck Two, Voyager's six children sat in a simulated schoolhouse from the 1800s. The wooden floors were worn and the clapboards needed to be whitewashed again. A black chalkboard hung at the front of the classroom, behind a small wooden podium—that in real times—could have served as a church lectern.

Each child sat at a rickety desk with lift tops. Incongruous to the setting, each student's desk was covered with multiple black padds and a thick, replicator-printed science book. Dani Janeway's science book was opened to the middle, her personal padd lay to one side.

She held her chin up in her hand glumly, barely able to keep her eyes open. She yawned, just as the holodeck arch opened. Crewman Tal Celes strode confidently into the holographic classroom by way of the arch.

Dani did a double take before finally staring mesmerized as the woman made her way across the room. The Bajoran's brown hair was fastened to the top of her head, long, wavy tendrils escaped along her temple. Her gold-shouldered Starfleet uniform was immaculate. Just as she approached the podium at the front of the room, Tal stumbled but caught herself, as she mumbled something unintelligible.

She stood behind the podium, tapped her padd on the top. Her lips seemed to naturally curve upward, but when she smiled, the woman's entire face lit up. "Good afternoon, class," she said.

"Good afternoon!" Dani was the only one to reply. The others narrowed their eyes on her odd and outdated greeting.

Tal beamed at Dani directly before clearing her throat.

"Today, I was asked to give you a lesson about the different states of matter."

Dani watched breathlessly while the woman began to discuss solids, gasses and liquids.

Dani's padd gave a quiet beep and she reluctantly tore her eyes off of Tal Celes to see a text message from Icheb.

"I believe Crewman Tal's lesson is redundant," he wrote.

A quick reply ensued from Mezoti. "We discussed atomic structure on Stardate 54255.96 when Ensign Dortman instructed us on electron configurations."

Dani tapped her finger on the tabletop, waiting for the inevitable. She smirked when she saw a third message from Naomi. "Seven says a review is always beneficial. Right, Eridani?"

Dani rolled her eyes and frowned. She hated to agree with Naomi. So she deleted the message, but sent her own separate one. "Tal Celes is…" Dani had started to tap the sentence out, stopping to glance up at the brunette. She couldn't say she was beautiful because that dang Naomi would probably report it to her mothers. That would be very bad because she'd probably never hear the end of it then.

So Dani deleted the words to start over. "Aren't you listening? It's _so_ not the same. She's showing us the practical side."

Meanwhile, Tal had activated a program she designed for the lecture. Several objects appeared on a table beside her that she used to illustrate her point.

Tal held up a glass of milk, unaware that she was speaking down to the children as if they were toddlers.

Icheb: "The crewman's examples of matter are pedantic and trite."

Mezoti: "Perhaps she was unaware of the earlier lecture. An example of methane as liquid and gas would be far more interesting and relevant."

Dani: "Do you want to blow us up, M? ;-)"

Mezoti smiled faintly before she tapped out her reply. "Methane is only volatile as a gas and only with certain O2 admixtures."

Azan: "Don't we breathe O2?"

Mezoti: "Methane could be isolated on the holodeck, rendering it inert."

Naomi: "I don't think Captain Janeway would approve methane use for us. It's too dangerous."

Dani nearly laughed out loud when Mezoti turned to frown at the horned girl.

Dani: "You can stick to your mama's milk, Naomi."

Dani felt someone watching her and looked up to see Mezoti look away.

By this time, Rebi, who was the quieter of the twin boys, finally entered the electronic fray. "We could use helium. Its properties are less volatile, but the question remains regarding the specific experiment."

Naomi: "Helium can be inhaled, you know. I've done it. In small quantities it makes you sound queer."

Icheb: "Why would anyone want to sound peculiar?"

Azan: "Helium has been used in ancient nuclear reactors as a coolant. Perhaps sustained nuclear fission could be achieved on our next shore leave."

Dani: "Yeah, I can see it all done before lunch. We can split the atom, like Azan said. Then Naomi can sing like a duck at the celebration."

Naomi gasped when she opened the message. Then she narrowed her eyes over her shoulder at Dani. Dani raised a hand to her cheek, waving a single finger she smirked broadly.

"Eridani," Tal said. "Do you have something to share with us?"

Dani's sarcastic smile vanished, and Naomi's beamed like the noonday sun. The Katarian girl settled back in her chair, lifting her chin in that exasperating imitation of Seven of Nine.

Dani looked down at the padd, hoping her classmates could help her out. No such messages came. She swallowed hard as she glanced at the book. She couldn't remember what Tal was saying.

"Eridani?" Tal asked.

"Uh, yeah, we were all thinking about doing an experiment with helium," she said in a dry throat.

Tal tipped her head, her lips spreading in a slow smile. Dani felt her heart accelerate. "That sounds intriguing," she replied. "Go on."

Dani looked at Azan with a pleading expression, but his face was stony. The lack of empathy annoyed Dani and she cursed the Borg children under her breath.

"What was that?" Tal asked. The woman laid her notes on the podium, grabbed her hands behind her back and walked over to Dani's table.

Dani got the faintest whiff of Tarkelian orchid from the Ensign. It was lovely, but fragrance on board was definitely a violation of regulations. It only made Tal that much more interesting to the eight-year-old.

"Well…" She stalled. She cinched her eyes closed willing that the green text would help her out. Why could the messages from the future ever be useful, she groused to herself.

"Yes?" Tal said patiently.

Dani opened her eyes, looking up and swallowing hard as she met Tal's doe eyes. "Maybe we could build an airship," she said, trying to remember what Mezoti had talked about during yesterday's escapade with the beings of light. Not airships, Dani thought.

Tal was still considering the idea, when Dani interrupted triumphantly. "Or hot air balloons!"

While Tal considered the idea's merit, she mused out loud about the ramifications, bringing up points the children had already discussed.

Meanwhile, Dani's face went blank when green text began to march across her vision. Terrific, she thought. Her eyes became shifty as she read a disturbing message: "You're going to need helium, Dan."

Dani rolled her eyes. The eight-year-old found most of the stupid messages from the future to be distracting. This was no different. The messages had also started calling her "Dan." It couldn't be Spiro. He didn't have the technology to send message forward, or back for that matter, in time. He was the only one allowed to call her that. Before she could think any more about the source, the green text from the future continued: "But not now…. They're coming!"

"Eridani, are you with us?" Tal asked again.

This time the others turned around to watch the girl, who was sitting in the back of the room.

"Uh," Dani said, trying to keep from watching the messages roll across her field of vision while she thought of a reply. "I'm right hear, Crewman Celes—"

Tal smiled, tipping her chin to her chest. "I'm Bajoran," she replied softly. "That means I should be addressed as—"

"Crewman Tal," both Naomi and Icheb pronounced in unison.

"I knew that," Dani said miserably. She could only do three things at once. As if reading communiqués from the future wasn't wearisome enough, Tal's proximity made breathing difficult, being put on the spot was bewildering and now trying to rack her brain about who "they' was, why they were coming and who cared? It was enough to nearly overload her brain circuitry.

"Of course, you did, Eridani." Tal patted the girl's shoulder, causing it to sizzle. Dani never felt this before—unfocused, out of breath and wanting more. _It was just one more dang thing_, she thought. _Can't anything be easy?_

Dani began to tense again, feeling everyone's eyes on her. When the text messages in her head turned to all caps and the scrolling zoomed across her eyes, Dani suddenly grabbed the desk. The rapid message made her dizzy and its implication made her queasy.

"You must be brave, Dan" it read.

Dani felt herself flush, until a new message ran across her vision. Her eyes swung erratically every few seconds as she read it, giving her a crazed, shifty expression. The new message scared her: "A Starfleet Officer—one you know—is going to barge in here in…point-three-two minutes. You must resist!"

Dani started to suck air loudly at the last statement. She rubbed her hands against her pants.

Tal watched her for a long moment. Before Dani realized it, Tal was stooping at the waist, looking at her eyes. She put a hand to the girl's head. "Are you all right?"

Dani jerked up to meet Tal's eyes. "Um…."

Naomi looked back at Dani. "She gets that way," she said.

"Is it a medical condition?" Tal asked.

"Unknown," Mezoti supplied.

Dani felt her heart pounding in her ear as she read a new message: "Tell the others not let him take you!"

Dani closed her eyes, groaning loudly.

"Are you feeling ill, Eridani?" Tal asked, her voice increasingly shrill.

She didn't want anyone to know about these stupid messages. It was enough that her Borg mother knew. But she wasn't here. Suddenly Dani panged for Seven.

Then a horrible analysis filled her head. Maybe this information wasn't really from the future. They were from some sick joker on board who had found a way to wirelessly access her Borg cerebral implant. How was she supposed to _be_ normal if she wasn't?

Something Dani had never considered made her snap her eyes open. What if I'm imagining all of this? Then what?

"What are you scared about, Eridani?" Tal asked, crouching beside her desk. Her hand reassuringly stroked the young girl's arm. Dani used that touch to anchor herself in reality. "Just relax. You're safe."

_I can't be freaking out_, she thought. These messages accurately predicted the Ket'zali acquiring her shuttlecraft. They predicted the Mencari's and subsequently the Doctor's rescues.

Dani realized why she was nervous. The last time the messages were so emphatic, a Ket'zali lizard had tackled Dani, plunging them both—along with another friend of hers, Mr. Commagees—down a gorge into cold river rapids. The idiotic messages had been trying to tell her what do to, as if she could fight a creature that was nearly three times bigger than her and five times as heavy.

Now who ever was on the other end of this communication line wanted her to defy a Starfleet officer. _What would Cappie say? _Dani grimaced in frustration. The last time she'd obeyed the message directives, which happened to be yesterday, she got kitchen duty and her holodeck privileges suspended for a week. The worst part was she got nothing—zip, nada, nil—out of it, except a scratched face, bruised ribs and a scolding from Captain Mother.

"Why should I listen to you?" Dani growled to that thing in her head giving her these messages.

Tal crinkled her brows, dropping hand away from Dani's arm. "Excuse me?"

Dani's eyes went wide when she realized she'd spoken aloud to the messages. She shook her head slightly, managing to focus on her teacher standing in front of her desk. "I was just…talking to…"

"Here he comes," the green text typed.

Dani braced herself, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath. She curled her fingers around the edge of the desk. "Don't let him take me," she pleaded.

"Don't let _who_ take you?" Tal asked, looking around in alarm.

The control arch materialized with Lt. Harry Kim stepping through it. He tugged his tunic down, as he scanned the room of children. His scowl tightened when his eyes met Dani's. "That one," he said, pointing a finger at the redhead.

"That one?" Tal asked, rising to her feet. "What does _that_ mean?"

Ignoring the Crewman, Harry seized Dani's bicep and yanked her to her feet.

"That hurt!" Dani bellowed.

By this time, Tal placed a hand on Dani's shoulder. "What's going on here?"

"Captain's orders," he said in a deep voice. His tug forward made Dani stumble.

Dani could feel Tal's hand on her shoulder, but suddenly she was engrossed in another message.

"It's time to be brave, m'girl!"

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. It was hard to feel brave when a man was squeezing her arm off.

"I didn't get any orders," Tal said.

"_My_ orders," he said.

Crewman Tal Celes started to stutter and blink furiously. "H-hold on, Lt. Kim," she said. "No one told me about this. I'll need confirmation from the Captain."

"The only confirmation you need, _Crewman_, is the one I'm giving you."

She raised a finger to tell him to wait, as she tapped her commbadge. "Tal to Captain Janeway."

Meanwhile Lt. Kim began to drag Dani toward the command arch.

"Resist him!" read the green text.

Dani tried to dig her feet into the deck, offering some friction. But she was too small to prevent the inevitable march forward.

Tal's eyes were twin moons and she bounced beside Dani. "Computer, locate Captain Janeway."

"_Captain Janeway is in Cargo Bay Two."_

On her third attempt to reach the Captain, Harry had reached the exit. He clicked his teeth and yanked Dani forward. "Stop that!" he admonished.

"Kick his balls, Dan!"

Dani tipped her head in confusion.

"Between his legs," the green text supplied for clarification.

She took a deep breath and slammed the tip of her boot into his groin. To her surprise, Lt. Kim groaned, the veins of his neck corded and his face reddened. He doubled over. "Why'd you do that?" he squeaked.

The green text supplied her answer. "Because you suck!"

He managed to pull his right hand back, swinging it forward. His Starfleet graduation ring slammed into her mouth, sending her against Crewman Tal. Dani slipped a hand over her mouth, her blue eyes wide. She pulled it back to reveal a bloody tooth lying in her palm and a string of pink-tinged saliva stretching from it to her mouth.

Tal firmed her jaw. Glaring at Lt. Kim, she thumped her commbadge. "Crewman Tal to security!" The chirp was flat again with no response.

She put a hand around Dani, who was sobbing.

"My toof!" the girl shouted, red spittle spraying across Lt. Kim's face. "You knocked my toof out!"

Harry gritted his teeth, trying not to cup himself as he pulled himself erect. He reached behind and under his tunic to pull out a phaser, pointing it at Dani's head. "I'm done playing," he growled.

Tal gulped loudly, stepping between the phaser barrel and her student. She opened her mouth—

"Insubordination," Harry said, emphasizing each letter of the word. He knew enough about Tal to know that she was a major screw up when it came to a service record.

Tal snapped her mouth closed and looked at the others, all of the Borg children were standing around them. Their legs were apart, their arms hung loosely beside them and their heads tipped, observing the situation. Naomi had slunk toward Tal, coming up to stand near she and Dani.

Crewman Tal tucked her chin, as if she were about to weather on. "School's out at sixteen hundred, Lieutenant. You can get her then."

He waved the phaser. "Do you see this?"

"I do," she whispered. "But you fire that and I can guarantee that security will swarm you like horseflies on Cardassian brides."

Harry's face flushed. "Get out of my way, _Crewman_. I have my orders."

"Are you going to punch me, too?" she smirked.

Harry bared his teeth and growled. Then a flick of his arm sent the slight woman sprawling to the deck.

She glared up at him. When he reached across to grab Dani, Tal scrambled up. Ten fingers trying to loosen his vise grip on the sobbing and bloody girl.

This time, Lt. Kim did thump the woman hard in the stomach. "I said as you were, Crewman!"

The pain radiated out from the center of her and Tal thought she could hear the Prophets calling her. Her eyes began to water and all she could do was bend over from the waist to catch her breath.

When Harry turned to where Dani should have been, he found Mezoti and Icheb, staring at him. Dani was ensconced behind them and surrounded by the other children.

"We do not believe that Captain Janeway gave you any authority to abuse her daughter and another member of this crew," Icheb said, peering down at the diminutive Lieutenant.

Harry squeezed the phaser handle, pounding its grip on the top of his head as he howled. "Can't you snotty brats follow orders?"

In unison, the Borg children checked their noses with the backs of their hands. Then they all looked down to find nothing. Dani took the time to wipe her mouth with her sleeve. She stuffed the white tooth in her pocket, patting it once for good luck.

"I've got my orders, Icheb," Harry said. "I intend to carry them out."

"Did your orders prohibit us from accompanying her?" Tal finally asked. She politely shouldered her way to the front. "Well, did it?"

"No," he said feeling a little flustered. "But that doesn't mean—"

"Today, _I'm_ her teacher." Tal stabbed her own chest with a finger, so hard she grimaced. "Dani Janeway goes, we go. All of us."

He frowned, the phaser wavering for a brief moment. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn us about what, Lieutenant?" Icheb asked.

"Just…Just shut up, Icheb!" He glared at an open-mouthed Mezoti before a syllable escaped her mouth. "All of you. Zip it."

He pointed with his phaser to the corridor. "Everyone out!" When Dani tried to slip ahead, he yanked her back. "You're still with me."

Just as they entered the corridor, Dani cinched her eyes shut. The green text resumed its relentless march across her eyes. She raised a hand to her face. "They're coming again, Dan!" the green text said.

Dani bit down hard on her back teeth. She wanted to yell that Lt. Kim had already got to her. She failed to resist hard enough! She wanted to scream at whoever was sending her these messages to suck off. Give them a taste of the new words they were teaching her.

A new message appeared, as if in response to her frustration: "Hold on tight! The Beings of Light are back and they're pissed!"

Dani's eyes snapped open, sliding her palm along the bulkhead on their march toward the turbolift.

"Stop that," Harry hissed.

"I want my mom and Cappie," Dani whimpered.

"I'm taking you to Cappie," he finally said.

Dani inhaled sharply. "What about my mom?"

"Just Janeway," he barked. "And no more damn questions!"

Dani swooned and then nearly fell face first, except that an aggravated Lieutenant caught her. "What's wrong with you?"

The green text had started again, the letters appearing quickly. The letters tumbled after each other as they scrolled to the other end of her vision. "It's time, Dan! Fight like hell!"

Before Dani could summon the courage, the red alert klaxon blared and the ship began to shake violently.


	6. The Ship Is Not Enough

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I'm glad you like my story. Sorry this chapter was so long. But hopefully the last half or so will make up for it. **

**Quantum of Chaos**

**Chapter Six: The Ship Is Not Enough**

An hour earlier, three men stared down at the unconscious Captain Janeway. One of them, a rail of a man with a receding hairline and bushy ginger eyebrows held a phaser at second man, while glaring at the third.

"Now why did ye have to do that, Gennaro?" Crewman Boultef Jarvin asked.

Beefy Gennaro shook his right hand out, grimacing in pain. "I couldn't help it that I'm so angry!"

"So with your diarrhea of rage, did ye think about how we are going to get the woman to Hangar Bay One?"

Gennaro scratched his ridged brows. "I didn't think I'd knock the Captain out. Thought she was a crusty bag o' steel."

Suddenly the two mutineers heard soft cackles from the other man, a blond crewman with a contemptuous smirk and a phaser barrel sticking into his ribs.

Jarvin caught the sarcastic look and jabbed harder. "Don't laugh, Harren."

"Why not?" the man asked. "It's a ludicrous scenario. It's like watching a bad Ferengi production of The Comedy of Errors." Harren unwisely thumbed the armed conspirator. "It's classic slapstick comedy."

Jarvin bared his canines at the man. "It won't be so funny when you join our dear departed Captain in the belly of a photon torpedo."

Harren's face went blank and he stared at the Captain's chest. "She's not dead, you moron!" He pointed at her. "Look! She's breathing."

"Furthermore," Gennaro pointed out, "we're not robbing this bucket of rancid gel packs."

The other two men looked sharply at him.

"We're not! It's a _mutiny,_ dammit!" Gennaro puffed his chest out. "Who's the moron now?"

Harren studied his captor for a long moment. "Yeah, I see that now. That'll look better on your service record." Mortimer Harren glanced down at the Captain's unconscious body, lightly tapping her boot with the tip of his own. "Especially with a missing commanding officer."

Harren's mocking eyes flashed to surprise and then pain when hairy knuckles collided with his nose. He stumbled back, covering his face with his arms. His hands caught drops of blood. His watery eyes stared in disbelief at his bloody fingertips. "What the hell?"

"Pick her up, Harren!" Gennaro shouted.

"I'm bleeding, you fool!"

"You'll do more than bleed if you don't do what he says," Jarvin hissed, aiming the phaser at the man's sneering face.

Harren wiped his nose with his shoulder, wincing slightly at the tenderness, leaving a red streaked across his cheek. He blinked again; the dark bruises were already beginning to circle his eyes, matching the pair already deeply coloring the Captain's.

Harren leaned down, cursing under his breath. He took the woman's arms and tried to heave her up to sitting. Her bonelessness made his task that much harder. "She's heavier than she looks," he groused.

He was breathing hard and his face was read, but Harren held Janeway up. Then he draped her arm around his neck, grabbing her dangling wrist with one hand and her waist with the other. "Ready," he growled through gritted teeth.

"Well, now, you haven't been completely useless, like I thought," Jarvin said. "Not like you are around the ship."

A flash of dismay crossed Crewman Harren's face and then it vanished. "Can we just get on with this?"

"You first," Jarvin growled, gesturing with the weapon toward the exit.

=/\=

Commander Chakotay rubbed the thunderbird tattoo on his cheekbone. He'd gotten it a few months ago, out of sheer boredom really, when a small contingent were stuck on a listless ship. Now it reminded him of what he promised himself then. He had the rights to this ship after he sacrificed the Val Jean for it. And it was within his grasp. Unfortunately, Chakotay had been forced to rely on a few weak links to achieve his goals.

"Where are they, Chakotay?" B'Elanna Torres asked.

He inquired with the computer on the time. "Kim and Jarvin should have been here by now."

"Are you just figuring that out?" Torres asked acerbically.

He looked at the Klingon hybrid. The Chief Engineer didn't know it yet. But he was going to order Torres to send off Janeway and that misbegotten spawn of hers, with or without a shuttle. After she'd sullied herself with the dirty work, she was going to follow them. In good conscience, he could report the mutiny, led by Torres. Patience, he told himself.

Chakotay ran a hand over the sleek black of his hair, all gathered in a ponytail, a la Khan Noonien Singh, at the back of his neck. He grimaced when he came up with a clod of hair. "Dammit," he hissed, as he shook out his hand. He saw B'Elanna watching the thick black strands float to the deck.

"I don't have time for this! God knows what Ayala is doing to my ship."

He heard a snort from B'Elanna but before he could whittle the damn woman down, he heard the bay door hiss open. Chakotay expected to see the farewell party. Instead, he saw six women measuring him up.

"What are you doing here?"

Lt. Kristine Fernandez sauntered forward, bouncing a three-pronged decoupler against her open palm. "Cut the crap, Chakotay," she said. "We all know what we all know now."

He studied each woman's face one by one. Fernandez was typical. Defiance. She'd always fought him for dominance, even in bed. It was only logical she wanted to prove something out of it.

Ensign Shona Harper seemed torn between a slow burning fury and a low burning lust. She licked her full chocolate lips, curling the corners as she twisted something on her shoulder. Only then did Chakotay notice a hyperspanner, not something a crewmember in the Science Division would really carry.

Chakotay's eye was caught by a quick motion to his left. He jumped into a battle ready stance, but it was only a fusing piton that skidded across the floor. Crewman Evelyn Romtau crossed her arms, lifting her chin a bit. "You're going to need this," she hissed.

"I'm not sure what's going on here, but I'm ordering all of you back to your posts," he said in a reasonable tone.

The women only closed ranks together.

Lt. Torres crossed her arms, her tongue jabbing the inside of her cheek. "I think the hens are about to clean house," she replied wryly.

B'Elanna's uncontrollable giggle made the man scowl, lingering the incendiary gaze a fraction of a nanosecond too long. Otherwise he might have been able to sidestep a rusty stem bolt the size of his thumb. It clobbered the bear of a man in the chest, followed by another on the thigh. His head snapped to Lt. Amanda Porter who lobbed several more at him. Those rusty bolts fell far short of their target and rolled to his feet.

"You are a real jerk," she said. "You know that?"

Rubbing the impact near his commbadge, Chakotay's jaw muscles jumped a few times before he finally answered. "What?"

Then Crewman Gilmore, holding onto the arm of a struggling Lt. Wildman, dashed into the hangar. Wildman was out of breath and holding her distended belly.

"What's going on here, Marla?" Chakotay asked over the other women.

Wildman screamed out, nearly doubling over. Marla began to rub the panting woman's back.

The amusement vanished from B'Elanna's face. "Shit, Chakotay," she said. "Is Ensign Wildman going into labor?"

"You did that to her!" Fernandez accused.

"Did what?"

Fernandez lunged forward, her fists trying to strike the man's smug face. But he seized her wrists and easily deflected her. "We're all pregnant and we all know _you_ are the father."

"So what if I am?" Chakotay said to Fernandez. Then his eyes searched the other woman. "It was all consensual."

Wildman glanced up, horrified as a gush of water soiled her pants. "Consensual? It was supposed to be—"

The frightened and angry woman fell to her knees and Gilmore slammed her hand on her own commbadge. "Gilmore to the Doctor, medical emergency!"

"_Doctor here!" _The Chief asked.

"I think Wildman's going into labor."

"_Initiating emergency site-to-site transport."_

Gilmore pulled back in time to miss transporting to sickbay. Her sudden motion loosened something at her side and a holocamera hit the deck.

She caught Chakotay's eye, and gracefully rose to her feet. She was brushing her hands and still she held her lover's gaze. "Like Wildman said—it was supposed to be _monogamous_." Gilmore allowed the pain to etch her pretty face as she came, camera in hand, to stand beside Romtau.

"I remember all of you enjoying yourselves," he said. "A lot."

Fernandez gritted her teeth and tried to knee the man. But he hopped out of the way, shoving her back in the process.

"Now we are going to enjoy ourselves even more," Fernandez said, picking up the decoupler. Porter tossed a few stem bolts up, Romtau pulled out an artificial gravity inhibitor from the sling on her back.

Harper activated her hyperspanner, its characteristic buzzing bouncing off the hangar bay hull. "I think you need a lesson in empathy first," she hissed.

The man smirked. "You girls are a little out of your league, don't you think?" He reached behind him, pulling out a phaser. "Especially considering this."

=/\=

Lieutenant Ric Ayala was enjoying sitting at the conn on the bridge of the U.S.S. Voyager. It sure beat the hell out of that one-trick pony, the _Val Jean_. He felt like his time on the Maquis ship was mostly like bailing water out of a leaking boat.

After a year of service under Chakotay, Ayala felt as if he'd exhausted his moral outrage against the Cardassian occupation. It was his bad luck to still be on the Maquis ship when it was hauled, like Voyager, all the way to the Delta Quadrant.

Integrating with Voyager's crew had been a less than smooth transition. The plumb assignments were taken by Starfleet flunkies, while token slots, like the First Officer, were handed to specific individuals for reasons that had nothing to do with talent. Who better for the role of lead puppet than a big man with an even bigger chip and a memorable tattoo?

Ayala wanted to be First Officer and after that, maybe Captain. He surveyed the bridge. Crewman Marissa Hamilton was at flight control. Lieutenant Arence Andrews was at tactical and Ensign Louise Dorton was at science ops. The view screen showed that damned pea soup they were swimming in outside. He was sick to death of that it. If he lived to be a thousand years old, Ric Ayala never wanted to see an unclassified nebula again, especially so far away from home.

The man with the hawk nose nestled further into the command chair. This was the life.

"Lieutenant," the white-haired Ensign Dorton said in an Efrosian brogue that exaggerated the consonants. "I'm picking up massive readings of EM radiation!"

Ayala sat up a little straighter and stared at the view screen. He blinked several times as he watched the star field. Then he looked again at Dorton. "What-what's the source?"

"Light," Dorton replied, her eyes wide on the screen. "Uh, lots of lights."

Ayala bolted to his feet, pacing in front of the viewer as he ran fingers through raven thick raven black hair. "What are they?"

Andrews pushed a few console controls before he looked up at the viewer. "It's those fireflies again," he said. "But billions and billions. They're on a vector intercept course to Voyager's position."

"Raise shields!" Ayala finally managed.

"Shields up!" Andrews answered.

"Time to intercept?" the increasingly pallid Lieutenant asked.

In one blink, the viewer went completely white. "Like now!" Andrews yelled.

"Red alert!"

=/\=

The ship rocked violently. Arcs of electricity sparked through the air, after conduit covers were blown off. The corridor from Cargo Bay Two looked like a plasma lamp, fine filaments of blue light curved and angled the entire length.

Jarvin and Gennaro stopped, narrowly missing an electrical current that zipped by them. Harren grimaced as he struggled to keep a still-dazed Janeway upright. "This is bad timing," he muttered.

Suddenly, the violent tremors ceased and the blue light vanished, leaving a flinty smell of ozone. Jarvin bared his teeth. "What'daya suppose is going on up top?"

Harren carefully let Janeway slide down, patting her cheeks lightly as he did. "Wake up, sunshine," he whispered, nearly inaudibly. When his cargo was safely stowed against the bulkhead, he thumped his commbadge. "Harren to Bridge," he snapped, with more confidence than he felt. "Status report!"

"Ayala here. Who is this?" came the shaken, but irritated reply.

"Ensign Harren. I'm the…." Harren hesitated because he caught furious, but pained gray eyes looking up at him. It was too late the fold on a bluff. He had to play his hand. It was all he had. "I'm the Plasma Relay _Engineer_…." The new title got an eyebrow raise from the Captain, but she remained silent, letting the charade play itself out. "And dammit! If you send us through another electrical storm, you can kiss the warp core good bye."

"_Isn't the warp core offline, Harren?"_

The Captain tipped her head, an intrigued look.

His smirk told Janeway he was enjoying the farce a little more than he should. "It certainly is and if you keep pulling stunts like that, it'll stay offline and thirty thousand light years may as well be thirty million."

"_It's the fireflies,"_ Ayala finally said in a dejected tone.

"The beings of light?"

"_They're trying to commandeer Voyager."_

Janeway's eyes widened. She tried to jump to her feet, but nearly fell over with dizziness, until Harren caught her. "Thank you," she murmured in a hoarse voice.

"Raise shields, Lieutenant! Take impulse engines offline! That's an order!" Janeway ordered.

"_What's Janeway doing there? You better get her—Ayala out!"_

Another round of tremors shook the ship. The plasma storm inside made the first one seem like an electrical hiccup. Janeway fell to her belly, ordering the other men down. They obeyed as blue fire unfurled over and around them.

"What the fuck is that?" Jarvin slurred.

"Plasma," Janeway said, tenderly touching her nose. How it ached. But it was nothing compared to the worry she felt for Seven, Dani and the rest of the crew who had nothing to do with the lunacy.

Within minutes, the tremors subsided. The men had barely raised their heads, while Janeway was already on her feet, marching toward the nearest turbolift.

"Stop!" Gennaro yelled.

Janeway heard the footfalls of the men as she rounded the corner, but the only thing worse than a mutiny was an exploding ship. And I'll be damned if either is going to happen today, she thought with every stomp of a foot.

Janeway stopped when she felt the muzzle of a phaser on her shoulder blade.

"You must be well acquainted with this feeling, Captain," Jarvin hissed.

"Actually, I'm not," she said. Before the man could respond, she whirled around. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we're cleaning house," Jarvin spat. "You're going to pay for your crime."

"What crime is that?"

Jarvin ran a hand through is mangy hair, his features contorting in frustration. "Do you really think your decision to destroy our only way home was the right thing to do?"

"If you're talking about the Caretaker's array, it was," she said calmly. "No matter the cost."

Jarvin bared his teeth, his pointy canines poised to pierce his own lower lip. "What did it cost you, Captain? My wife was going to bear my first child!" He lurched forward bringing him within a foot of Janeway, her eyes level with his chest. "But where the hell am I? In the belly of this damned flying shithole. My cost, lady—a child being raised by some other man." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes still bugging out. "What did you pay?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but tears welled instead. But she quickly blinked them away. "I'm sorry," Janeway whispered in her sympathetic way.

He raised his hand as if to strike, catching the Captain suppress a wince. Instead of belting her, the man brought his thumb across his dry, cracked lips. "It don't mean nothing," Jarvin said. "But you're gonna pay for that."

Janeway studied him for a long moment. She neither blinked nor wiped the determined look from her eyes. She gave into his yanks and prodding. He's right, she told herself. She'd paid less.

Janeway had been single with no children at the time she'd decided it was better to destroy the array that brought them here than risk the Kazon using the alien device to enslave the Ocampa. What did she know about the pain she inflicted on her crew by imposing her own values? Except they weren't just her beliefs. They were Starfleet's values, too! The crew had taken an oath, including Jarvin, she reminded herself. It had cost some men and women their lives. Janeway suppressed a pang. At least he was alive, Janeway thought. But it was not a sentiment she could bring herself to express, not if she was honest about her own internal conflict. And the guilt! Dear God, how it crucified her!

But Jarvin had given Janeway just one more reason to stay the course.

"Listen to me, Jarvin." She raised a finger to point up toward the Bridge. "Ayala doesn't have the experience to face these beings of light, whoever they are. If you don't let me get to the bridge, I'll be dead all right." She caught the look of glee in his eyes and nearly shivered. "But that will be little consolation, because you'll be dead, too."

Jarvin raised his chin, insight beginning to dawn on him.

"If you let me do my job, I promise you on my very life that I will set you down on your front porch in the Alpha Quadrant," she said. "Even if I have to carry you there myself."

Jarvin studied the woman's determined features, raising his phaser as he did.

=/\=

"Lieutenant!" cried Hamilton. "Inertial dampers are offline!"

Ayala's hands, gripping the edge of the command chair, went white and his veins corded from the effort. He glanced around, trying to remember the protocols.

In another blink, the fireflies began to heave the ship. Conduits began to pop on the bridge, sending sparks flying across the deck.

"Lieutenant! We're being maneuvered toward a heading of nine-four-seven mark three-niner."

"Get us back on course! That's an order, Crewman!"

"Aye, aye, Lieutenant."

The helmsman gritted her teeth, her eyes focused laser-like on the course heading, as her hands struggled to keep navigation controls from slipping. Hamilton took another deep breath and the ship lurched, Ayala nearly falling tumbling over the helm station.

The helmsman's neck was a relief of strained muscles and engorged veins, her brown eyes bulging. The more pressure she placed on the navigation system, the more violently Voyager shook.

A communication chirp signaled for Ayala. "Lieutenant, this is Crewman Chell. Whatever you're doing, you're overloading the impulse manifolds. They're up to a hundred and twenty percent capacity, but we can't sustain that kind of drain without blowing the entire system!"

"Shit!"

=/\=

Ensign Wildman was on a biobed, her legs in stirrups and naked from the waist down. A medical hologram was working over her, chiding her.

"Don't push!" Dr. von Behring yelled.

"I can't help it!" she growled.

"You must!"

"I am!"

"I mean you must not!"

"Argh! Why do I always have to give birth in a catastrophe?"

"You're not supposed to give birth," he remarked, injecting her with more tercartaline.

"What's that for?"

"To stop the contractions."

"It hasn't worked."

"But it's supposed to," von Behring said matter-of-factly.

"It hasn't," she growled through gritted her teeth. She clenched her eyes and cried out.

The doctor glanced at the monitor, watching the red line tracking uterine contractions spike, as expected. Unfortunately, at the same time, the five blue lines recording fetal heart rates began to dip precipitously.

The Chief Medical Officer was at another workstation, his nimble holographic fingers jumping over the console. He was working to configure an antidote to the radiation sickness that had overcome the ship.

Suddenly, the ship began to shake violently again. The holograms looked up, oblivious to the terror this would cause organic beings.

"Why can't they stop those?" von Behring inquired. "It's annoying."

The Chief's console sparked. The image of a rotating icosahedron atom flickered. "And distracting."

=/\=

Dani Janeway was poised on her tiptoes, stretching for all her worth just to touch the ground, as Lt. Kim held her shirt upward and hauling her with him. Her arches were beginning to cramp from the strain, forcing her to stop resisting. The action nearly whipped the distracted Bridge Officer into the bulkhead, as Dani's moment shoved her forward. He yanked her upright and shook her for good measure.

"Stop doing that!"

"My feet hurt!" she yelled back.

He raised a backhand, but paused when Crewman Tal, standing behind the girl, crossed her arms and glared at him. He clucked his teeth and was about to strike when the Borg children joined the crewman.

He waved his phaser at all of them. "There are enough for all of you!"

"Enough of what?" Tal asked in a quivering voice.

Lt. Kim seemed frustrated by the questions, as if he didn't want anyone to know. "Never mind!"

Dani was now at least being shoved by the mean man, instead of hoisted. Another green message came from her Borg implant: "Imperative! You must resist, Dan!"

Over her shoulder, she caught Tal's eyes. "What does imperative mean?"

"Absolutely necessary," she replied, glancing once at Lt. Kim. "Why?"

"Enough!" Kim shouted, grabbing Dani's shirt to stop her. "We're here."

Dani looked up and down each corridor. The others followed suit.

"We are where, Lieutenant?" Tal asked.

"No wonder you're just a gopher," he sneered.

A poisonous mixture of shame and pain flashed over Tal's lovely features before it disappeared. "So tell us then," she said.

He looked up, pointing with his phaser. "Escape pod."

While he reached up to open the hatch, Tal's eyes widened in understanding. She cleared her throat, catching Dani's fearful attention. Tal gestured with her chin down the corridor. When Dani remained planted on the spot, Tal pointed emphatically in a direction. Dani swallowed hard.

"Now!" Tal yelled.

Dani sprinted as fast as she could down the corridor. She heard a hailstorm of swear words from Kim, followed by a loud thud. Then she heard Tal yelling at the top of her lungs: "Run, Eridani! Don't stop."

Around the corner and halfway down another corridor, Dani heard the distinctive sound of phaser fire. She stopped and sobbed, looking back to where she'd come. She heard several more cries and then another round of fire.

Strangely, Dani was angry and worried because she had received no more green text messages. She hoped that didn't mean she was supposed to be dead right about now. She looked down at the Jefferies tube hatch and nodded to herself. "That's what I'm going to do."

=/\=

Harry wiped his upper lip with the back of the hand that still held the phaser. Tal Celes was crumpled against the bulkhead and he wasn't entirely sure she was still breathing. The Borg children were not that easy to subdue, but a phaser did the trick. They weren't so tough with their Borg technology offline.

The boys were all sprawled along the deck and Mezoti was at Kim's feet. He had been surprised that the girl Borg had been the most ferocious of them all. Naomi was cowering and crying in one corner.

"You stay where you are and you can stay on the ship," he said.

He smacked his commbadge. "Computer, locate Eridani Janeway."

"Eridani Janeway is in Jeffries Tube 47 on Deck 7."

He knew she wasn't far then.

He opened the hatch and peered down. "Tactical error," he said. Lt. Kim climbed onto the ladder inside and began to lower himself.

He was nearly to the lower deck when he caught the glint of a commbadge lying on the ground. Then he heard a small whimper overhead. "What the—?"

Lt. Kim looked up in time to see a pair of size-four boot soles smash into his face and shoulder. The surprise impact loosened his grip and the pair fell together another five feet before striking the deck and blacking out.

=/\=

Before the Bridge door had finished sliding open, Janeway had bolted, barking orders as she descended the steps. "Status, Mr. Ayala?"

The man's jaw muscles were jumping, as twin-mooned eyes stared at the white viewer screen. He was immobilized where he stood. When he turned to see Janeway fly down the steps, he looked nearly relieved.

"The lights are back. They've been trying to shove Voyager in the wrong direction, heading nine-four-seven mark three-niner. What's the shield status?" he asked as he vacated the command chair, his hawk gaze still fixed on Janeway.

"Shields at forty percent," Andrews replied.

"Impulse engines are at fifty percent," Dorton added. "Inertial dampeners are offline."

Janeway wiped her mouth, stepping beside Ayala. She turned to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Ayala," she said rapidly, but gently. "Reset the inertial dampening field base at three-zero-zero and re-initialize. If Voyager sustains another shove from these creatures, we'll all be smashed like bugs against the bulkheads before we even have time to react."

Ayala blinked one too many.

"Now, Mr. Ayala!"

The man nodded, running to an open slot at Ops.

"Janeway to Engineering, what's the status of the impulse drive."

"Chell here," he said, relief in his voice. "Impulse drive thrusters are about to fail, Captain. But it's good to hear your voice."

"Take the impulse engines offline, Crewman," she ordered. The bridge crew flicked their eyes to her, almost in unison.

"Captain?" Chell asked. "Did I hear…?"

"Cut the engines! Now!"

"Captain," Dorton said. "Another wave of electromagnetic radiation on an intercept course with Voyager's position."

"Route all available power to shields," Janeway barked. "Mr. Ayala, have you reinitialized the dampers? We're going to need them in…." She looked at Dorton. "Intercept time?"

She looked down at her console. "Uh, tee minus two seconds!"

Ayala pressed a button, raising his fist in triumph. "Inertial dampers operational," he shouted.

With no resistance for them, the beings swarmed the ship, momentarily blanking out the screen.

"They're green, Captain," Dorton replied. "We'd only ever seen red—"

"Orange was observed on the holodeck," Janeway mused, remembering the report of her daughter's interactions with the creatures.

"Orange…." Dorton whispered. "This is definitely a color shift."

In a nanosecond, the screen was cleared and the Bridge crew saw the stars distort as they were shoved across the expanse of space.

"Hull integrity down fifteen percent," Dorton said.

Janeway bit down hard on her back teeth. "What's our speed?"

Hamilton touched flight control panels, shaking her head. "The speed is off the charts," she said.

"Hull integrity down another thirty percent," Dorton added.

The whine of the ship seemed to keep time with the star streaks distorting outside around them. They watched the beings fade to orange. When they'd shaded to red, they blinked out, as if from existence.

"Did you see that?" Andrews asked. "Billions there and in a blink, gone. All of them. Just like that."

"Just as they turned red…." Janeway mused, her scientific mind trying to strain at hypotheses about these strange beings. "What's our position?"

With shaking hands, Hamilton squinted at the screen. "That can't be right," she mumbled.

"Crewman?" Janeway said with the full thunder of command.

"It says we are fifteen thousand light years from our last known position," she replied in a shaky voice. Hamilton glanced up at the Captain, a sob escaped her. "But we're no closer to home, Captain." Another sob gushed out. "We went the wrong direction, Captain!"

=/\=

Seated at the desk in her ready room, Captain Janeway gingerly pinched the bridge of her nose as the Doctor ended his report. Her head was pounding, her nose was throbbing and her stomach was rumbling. Her eyes were red and her face was grim with worry.

"So everyone's asleep?" she asked again.

The Chief Medical Officer took out his medical tricorder, unable to hold off his examination of her.

She snapped her eyes open. "Not now, Doctor," she hissed.

"But Captain, you are injured—"

"I said later." Her voice was sharply edged.

The Doctor reluctantly closed his tricorder. "Everyone but bridge personnel are asleep," he said. "I isolated you from the rest of the ship, pumped neurozine gas through the ventilation system to incapacitate the crew. From the signs I'd seen, the testosterone poisoning was worsening."

"Testosterone poisoning?"

The Doctor caught the Captain up on the theta radiation that Seven of Nine had discovered emanating form the unclassified nebula. "We determined the new radiation was acting on the gonads of the crew."

The Captain's face colored slightly. "Gonads?"

"The radiation was exciting the gonads to overproduce testosterone—in both males and females. It's really a fascinating study since we know this nebula formation is a relatively new cluster, it's as if the radiation had a specific purpose."

"What purpose doctor and by whom?" Janeway asked, leaning forward.

"Well, perhaps I misspoke when I used the word designed, as it denotes conscious choice. Not that I would insult your religious beliefs. It's just that—"

"Fine, Doctor. I'm not insulted. Can you please get on with it?" Janeway said.

"This radiation has primarily affected the crew's reproductive organs, as I said, exciting the biological imperative to reproduce. Don't you see?"

"What are you saying, exactly?"

"The nebula was trying to fill itself with life, Captain! The radiation seemed to specifically target a male's testes and a woman's ovaries for production. It's rather ingenious," he said, adding hastily, "for a blind, evolutionary force, that is."

"Be fruitful and multiply," she said wryly.

"Exactly," the Doctor said. "So, in lieu of its purpose, I'm proposing we classify this new nebula as Class X." His face lit up, as if he'd just said the punchline and he waited for the sure cascade of laughs. "We could call it a Class X nebula because of the—"

"I get it, Doctor," Janeway said tiredly. "I'll take it under advisement. Now what about the crew?"

"With the mutiny afoot and another light attack underway, I pumped neurozine through the air system, along with a special aerosol form of chronexaline to counter the radiation. They'll need follow up injections at least until we get through the nebula."

"What about the children?"

"Their reactions were quite different, since they were all mostly pre-pubescent," he said. "They are growing faster than average and it appears the growth is designed to get them to puberty sooner rather than later."

The same sense of dread that had overcome Janeway when she first heard the news twenty-four hours ago erupted again. "Is there anything we can do about it?"

"We've managed to minimize the theta radiation effects through a combination of shield modifications and medicine," he replied. "Though the crew may still feel…ill effects such as increased libido and quick tempers—"

She felt a tingle of sexual excitement, an unwelcome feeling, considering her general state of injury and her worry. "That would explain the urge to…merge," she said.

"Yes, well, exactly. I predict we'll probably see more conceptions before this is all over."

Janeway closed her eyes again. She heard the Doctor's tricorder whining over her and she sighed, resigned to the medical check up. "What about the children? Did you inject them with chronexaline?"

"No, I am not sure what effect it would have on their system," he said. "The shield modifications should counteract most of the radiation's effect, but the best thing is to get out of this nebula as fast as we can."

"That won't be easy. Not with my crew asleep or horny," she replied, too fatigued to moderate her language. She closed her eyes, the pull toward oblivion was strong. "So what will it mean for the children then?"

"Hmm," he said, looking grimly at the medical tricorder readings. "They will continue to grow until we exit this nebula and perhaps for several months longer. I am not exactly sure."

She frowned. "What about the unborn?"

"There's been no change. So far, the fetuses are experiencing normal growth. We will continue to monitor the situation."

"What about Tom, Tuvok and Ensign Wildman, all Ket'zali prisoners?"

"Like you?" He asked finally looking up.

"Yes, like me. What is their prognosis?"

As the Doctor began a self-congratulatory explanation of how he'd isolated the same mutagenic viruses in Samantha Wildman, Tom Paris and Tuvok, the Captain stopped him.

"If they have the same virus, why didn't you find them a week ago, when you first came on board?"

"They were masked by the theta radiation," he said, a trifle persnickety. "I didn't know about the radiation poisoning then."

The Doctor retrieved his padd, thumbing to the correct section. "Tom's virus attacked his metabolism," the Doctor explained.

"Why was he green?"

"Carbon fixation," the Doctor said. "His body was rejecting biomatter as fuel and he'd just started to metabolize light compounds. He was beginning to exhale carbon dioxide to convert and use glucose. Similar to a plant."

"Are you saying he was growing chlorophyll?"

"Oh, no, he wasn't growing chlorophyll, Captain," he said.

She relaxed that set of her shoulders. "That's a re—"

"He was _becoming_ chlorophyll."

She glared at him. "Subtle difference, Doctor."

"I think you're missing the point. I've caught it in time. He will be fine, though a touch aquamarine in hue for a while, until he metabolizes it all out of his system."

"Why would the Ket'zali do that?"

The Doctor shrugged a holographic shoulder. "There's no telling what they intended, but my guess would be they were looking to adapt biological forms to transfer matter and energy in our space, as if he were being prepared to assume some role in an alien ecosystem where they could use his excretions, just as we would use light."

The Captain grimaced at the horror of such a plan. "What about Samantha and Tuvok?"

"Ensign Wildman's reproduction was revved up, as much by the new radiation as the Ket'zali experiment." He glanced down at a padd he'd carried in. "She went into labor just as the attack begun."

The Captain looked with alarm at the Chief Medical Officer.

"She was carrying five fetuses," he said.

"Are they…did they make it?"

"Only one survived," he said grimly. "And its hold on life is tenuous at best."

Janeway closed her eyes, lifting her chin. Worry lines etched at the corner of her eyes. "Is she all right?"

"Under the circumstances she is fair. The boy, who weighs two pounds, is in an incubator…" Janeway snapped her eyes open. "Where he will remain for the next two to three months at least."

"Were you able to purge her system of the viruses?"

"Yes, even Tuvok is now virus free. His case was a trickier. Ultimately, the virus attacked his nervous system, wreaking havoc across multiple biological systems and causing symptoms that didn't seem to fit any diagnosis, until you realized the source. Which I did. Thanks to my tireless efforts, all catastrophe was averted."

"What are your recommendations for the crew suffering from radiation poisoning?"

"Everyone on the ship has it to some degree," he said. "But I would recommend that all males be confined to quarters until the modified chronexaline and the shield modifications can take effect."

She stood up and touched her commbadge, ordering Ayala and Andrews to their quarters. Then she ordered Dorton to find and awaken B'Elanna Torres and Seven of Nine, along with a long list of others, to initiate site-to-site transports for all unconscious male personnel.

"What about your injuries?" the Doctor asked, after Janeway started toward the door linking the Ready Room to the Bridge.

"This means I'm needed on the bridge, Captain, until some other bridge officers are available to relieve me."

"Captain, I can relieve you of command—"

Janeway glared at the hologram. "You can't do that—Oh, I know you have the authority," she said, talking over his protest. "But we don't have a choice. Most of the crew is unconscious. Some may experience ill side effects. This is the way it has to be and I'm the Captain."

Reluctantly, the Doctor nodded. "Very well, but I expect you to report to sick bay as soon as your duty shift ends."

"Aye, Doctor."

=/\=

Janeway handed the bridge over to Lt. William McKenzie, after three unrelenting hours of watching Voyager float aimlessly in space.

With a heaviness settling down on the Captain, she found herself in sickbay at last. Her aches and pains reasserting themselves ferociously. Janeway found a warm comfort ripple through her to see Seven of Nine comforting their daughter. She'd known where they'd been, of course. She'd performed the query every fifteen minutes while she had bridge duty, until the computer's answers changed. It had meant that someone found them and she could relax. She wasn't sure what Crewman Hamilton had thought, but at that point, she didn't care.

Janeway also noted a privacy screen around the main biobed and muffled cries emerging from there. Janeway assumed the doctors were preoccupied.

Lt. Harry Kim was unconscious on one biobed. She winced at one of Lt. Harry Kim's leg, which was bent at impossible angle.

Commander Chakotay lay on the bed next to Harry, covered with a single gray sheet to the waist. Countless small lacerations crisscrossed his face, distorting both of his tattoos. One eye was swollen and his lips were cracked. There were abrasions to one shoulder and a series of burns to his left chest that looked too symmetrical to be accidental.

She knew that Commander Tuvok would give her a full report on what actually transpired among the crew and she dreaded to hear the details.

As Janeway made her way across sick bay, she quietly greeted and inquired into the well-being of some crew members who were awaiting treatment. She chatted amiably with some of them, slowly making her way toward Seven, Dani and the other children.

Captain Janeway laid a hand on Dani's knee, squeezing her as she asked them all how they were feeling. The Borg children remarked they were functioning within normal parameters.

Naomi glanced over her shoulder at the privacy screen. "My mom's in there," she whispered.

Janeway slipped an arm around the girl. "I'm sorry, Naomi," she said. "But I'm sure the Doctors are doing the best they can."

Naomi nodded, glancing back nervously toward the screened biobed.

"I was about to take Naomi and Eridani to our quarters…." Seven's eyes bounced to the Borg children who were intently studying the scene. "That is to say, to Eridani and my quarters…." she clarified needlessly. "Where she will stay until her mother is better."

Naomi's eyes lit up and Dani frowned. Janeway patted Naomi's shoulder before releasing her. Then she met her daughter's frown with one of her own. "How are you?" she asked quietly.

There were faint circles ringing her eyes, and a tiny nicks on her full lips. Janeway pulled back, letting her eyes wander over the small frame. Then the Captain caught the small hand holding a white baby tooth. "Wounded in the line of duty," Dani said, her soft palate lisp of youth making the words sound utterly adorable to Kathryn's seasoned ears.

Dani's forced, wide smile revealed a small gap in the top row that Kathryn dutifully examined. Janeway lightly pinched her daughter's chin between a finger and thumb and tipped her face up. She glanced this way and that at the gapless grin. "Wasn't that the loose tooth anyway?"

Dani abruptly fisted her white tooth, shook her chin free of her mother's touch and jumped down from the bed in a huff. She shoved the tooth back in her pocket and marched toward the door.

With alarmed eyes, Janeway turned to see Seven, who was also watching their daughter. "What was that about?" she asked quietly.

Seven slowly turned to regard Janeway. The dark purple bruises circled both eyes and her nose was swollen. A thin line of dried blood marred a bump in her nose bone that had not previously been there.

Janeway recognized Seven's concern but this was not the time. "Is Dani all right?"

Seven glanced back at their daughter, who was about to step out of sickbay. "Eridani, where are you going?"

"Home," she growled, as the door hissed shut.

Seven laced her hands behind her back. "Naomi Wildman," she said. "Would you please excuse the Captain and I? We have something private to discuss."

=/\=

Captain Janeway activated the privacy screen around the biobed and turned to Seven, standing closer than a Captain should to a crewman. "How are you, Seven?"

Seven raised her eyepiece. "I am uninjured," she replied. "But I cannot say the same for you." Seven raised her hand to run her thumb along the Captain's cheekbone, careful to avoid the contusions. Janeway closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the touch of tenderness.

"I'll be fine," she said, tipping her head into Seven's touch. "They're just bruises. Nothing time won't heal."

"That is an inaccurate statement," Seven replied. "It appears your nose has been fractured."

Janeway snapped her eyes open. "Nothing time and a bone knitter won't fix."

"Who did this to you?"

Janeway offered Seven a mildly scolding look. "No one has been in their right mind since they entered this damn nebula," she said. "It's not anyone's fault and I don't want you involved in any sort of retaliation. Is that understood?" The question was asked with a sharp crack of a whip and the effect more pointed than Janeway intended.

Seven dropped her hand and retreated into her own camouflage, namely that of Borg indifference. "Perfectly understood, Captain," she replied.

To Janeway's surprise, Seven did not stomp away in a gigantic Borg sulk. Instead, Seven remained impassive, watching her.

"This entire episode is going to take a lot of healing, Seven," Janeway said, by way of explanation. "We don't need to rip open the gaping wounds further. It's going to take us—Starfleet and Maquis, mutineers and loyalists—long enough to heal and get back to the unified crew we had been."

Seven lifted her chin a micrometer. "Does this edict also apply to the crew member who struck your daughter's?"

Janeway winced slightly, the thought causing nausea to stir and rumble. "I didn't know about that," Janeway whispered.

"Perhaps," Seven answered carefully, "if you had inquired of your daughter's well-being instead of minimize her loss, Eridani would have told you herself."

Janeway felt her legs begin to shake and she felt weak. She steadied herself on the bed. "I did do that, didn't I?"

"That is why I have made you aware of it," she said. "Captain."

The distance she felt from her lover was more painful than her throbbing head. Janeway scratched over her eye. "Who hit her?"

"Harry Kim."

Those two words were the last one Janeway expected and she nearly fell back from the shock. Two strong Borg arms helped her onto the biobed. Janeway laid back, her body crying out for what it needed.

Before she realized it, a medical tricorder was whizzing over her head and torso. The Chief looked grimly at the results. "Well, I see you didn't learn your lesson, Captain," he said. "You need to hydrate. You need water and to eat. And you need to rest."

She gave the Chief Medical Officer a half smirk. "I've been a little busy," she said. "Saving the ship and trying to quell a mutiny."

"All in a day's work," he said sarcastically. "But it's over and I suggest you retire to your quarters." The emergency hologram glanced at her again. "Do I need to make that an order?"

"No," she said quietly. "I will…." Janeway met Seven's eyes. "I will comply."

Seven raised both brows. "Doctor," Seven said. "The Captain's illness must be grave indeed, if she will comply without being relieved of command."

The Doctor chuckled and even Janeway was thankful for jest, hopeful for what it suggested. "This nebula has even given our own Borg a keen sense of the absurd."

=/\=

Captain Janeway had dutifully gone straight to her own quarters, her body crying out for rest after it had been watered and fed. Yet, there was a deeper need there to be connected spiritually to her lover of six months, Seven of Nine. But the physical needs won out and she was submerged in sleep nearly instantly.

At nearly three hundred hours, Janeway bolted upright. Her basic physical needs sated for the time being meant that she became aware of her need for Seven's touch, her smile but most of all, for the woman's understanding and support.

Janeway gathered her Starfleet issue black robe, the logo at its breast. She cinched the waist and found herself standing before what had been the VIP quarters across the corridor from her. Now it was the cabin where Seven and Dani stayed.

Janeway's hand hovered at the control panel, finally triggering the chime.

Seven answered, fully clothed in a blue biosuit, Janeway's favorite and she couldn't help but rake her eyes up the luscious body to meet a piqued expression.

"Have you come to your senses?" Seven asked, recalling their argument in the holodeck only two nights before.

Janeway's crooked response accompanied her sardonic reply. "Trick question."

Seven pushed down the nearly insatiable need to have this woman standing at her step.

While Seven warred with herself, Janeway peered over the woman's shoulder. "I hope I'm not waking you or…interrupting something."

Seven stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. "I was reviewing the latest data for the new nebula."

Seven watched Kathryn meander to a couch where she slumped, lifting a padd for her perusal. "Ah, I see Dani's been working on her essay assignment."

Seven hid her surprise that her lover would allow her last comment to pass without a remark. Kathryn was a scientist, first and foremost, with an unquenchable curiosity. Seven wondered what this could portend, as she sat on the edge of the chair, her feet closely aligned and her hands resting on her knees.

"Eridani is most unhappy with the text you assigned," she finally replied.

Kathryn half smiled, as she scrolled quickly through the text of "Lord of the Flies." She let the padd fall and wiped her hands on her pajama pants. "What is this?" She looked at her palm. "My hands are sticky."

Seven sighed, rising to take the padd. She wiped it off with a damp towel she retrieved from the ensuite. "She was reading during her dessert of blueberry ice cream." Seven returned the padd to the stack after straightening the other papers.

Then she returned to the sofa chair, resuming the exact posture and watched Kathryn.

Kathryn stared back at her, vulnerability in her eyes. "I hate the way we left the discussion about our future, Seven."

"As do I. But you are the captain and your duty calls."

Kathryn frowned slightly. "You aren't going to make this easy, are you?"

"Is it my responsibility for such?"

Kathryn sighed. "I suppose not." She meandered to sit on the table in front of Seven. Kathryn placed her elbows on her knees, leaning toward her lover.

But Seven remained still, watching carefully but completely mute.

"I think I've made a diplomatic faux pas."

The Borg inclined her head, an encouragement to continue.

"I believe I should have explained my rationale about our secrecy more carefully."

"Why have you not explained sooner, if it is so important to you?"

Janeway took Seven's hand, brushed her lips on the knuckles. "The realization hit me today," she said, tracing the outline of Seven's human hand with a finger. "I think I finally understood it myself." Janeway drew back, releasing her lover's hand as she did. She held Seven's gaze for so long that when Kathryn opened her mouth the Borg was surprised when no revelations issued forth.

Seven watched Kathryn bolt to her feet, cross her arms over her chest and step closer to a window, where she peered at the stars. Without the distortion of Voyager's engines, which were still offline, the stars winked, as they did planetside.

"Did I ever tell you about Justin Tighe?"

Seven stepped closer, but remained separated from the Captain. "No, I do not believe I know him? Did he serve under you?"

Kathryn chuckled. It was deep rumble from her belly. "Not exactly," she said. "We were engaged."

"Ah," Seven said. It was her answer when a logical reply was elusive.

"I was twenty-three and both of us had escaped imprisonment and torture from the Cardassians." She went on to relate that Justin was test piloting a prototype ship that her father, Edward, had designed. "On its maiden voyage, the ship's systems failed and we crashed on Tau Ceti Prime." Janeway rubbed her own triceps, as if chilled. Kathryn turned, dropping her arms and looking straight into Seven's eyes. She exhaled quickly, as if preparing herself. "My father and Justin died and there wasn't one damn thing I could have done to save them."

Seven of Nine felt a rush of emotions, so many and so quickly she had trouble picking her way clear to a responsible reply. When none came, Janeway turned to look at the stars.

"I graduated Starfleet Academy in the top tier of my class. I earned a doctorate in quantum cosmology. I was one of the youngest officers to reach the captaincy. But I was powerless…." Janeway's voice finally broke. A hand covered her mouth and instantly, Captain Janeway was in control.

Seven sensed a deep well of fear and, despite her own frustrations with the Captain and her inability to offer verbal consolation, Seven went to her, pulling the woman close. She could not withhold comfort as punishment. She pressed herself into Kathryn's back, circling her arms around the smaller woman's waist. Seven nuzzled the auburn hair by her ear. She felt Kathryn melt into her, felt her arms cover her own.

"Then as now, I am a Starfleet officer working with a professional crew. They knew the risks of their assignments and they accepted them. But now…." She shook her head and her voice cracked as she continued. "I have children on board. They never enlisted. More are coming. And I have my own child and another one on the way—I have you—and…I can't protect you! Dani will experience God-knows-what from the radiation exposure! Our baby is at risk! And I can't—"

"Kathryn, we are not in danger. We will—"

"It's more than that, Seven," she whispered. "So much more."

Seven felt Kathryn began to sway one foot to the other and she matched the soothing rhythm.

"Let me ask you, Seven," she said. "What would Chakotay—in the condition he's in—what would he do to you or Dani if he found out about us?"

"I cannot speculate on his frame of mind, but I do not believe it would be welcome news."

Janeway shook her head. "No, it wouldn't, not for a man as proud as Chakotay. His lover taken by another woman."

"What is the point of this conjecture?"

"I don't recognize Chakotay or half of the members of my own crew. They literally commandeered the ship, Seven. Their mutiny may have succeeded if it weren't for the beings we've encountered. I'm afraid if they find out about us that—that Chakotay will hurt you or Dani and—dammit! I feel powerless to protect you and I hate it. I hate the helplessness."

Seven spun the weeping woman around, embracing her tightly. "Kathryn," she said. "You do protect us. And we will also protect ourselves."

"It was never about you or us," she said, letting her thumb brush across the full lips. Kathryn pulled back. "Do you understand now?"

The older woman leaned into Seven's cupped hand at Kathryn's cheek.

"I am beginning to comprehend, Kathryn," she said. "But you must recognize my points as well."

Kathryn nodded slowly, careful to hold her lover's gaze. "All right," she said. "Explain to me what you feel."

Seven released her hold of Kathryn, the emotions of holding her conflicting with her need to sort, analyze and then expound on conflicting data. She felt a cold hand grip her heart. Her perfect memory dredging up images of how she felt when Captain Janeway had cut her vital link to the Borg Collective. Seven remembered feeling bereft of all sanity, the myriad of voices lost. The only one remaining was the sound of a weeping child that Seven had come to know as little Annika Hansen, still locked up inside of her.

That was precisely it, Seven thought. She felt severed from Kathryn. It was a more profound loss of connection than she had ever felt after being severed from the Borg Collective. "I feel severed from you and it…" Seven visibly floundered to identify the correct nuance that would describe the acute torment she felt.

Kathryn cupped her cheek. "Oh, Seven," she whispered. "It was our first real fight."

"I do not like it," she stated. "It hinders my peak efficiency."

Kathryn gave a half-smirk. "We can't have that," she said, letting her thumb brush across Seven's cheek.

Seven frowned. "I continue to feel dislocated and disconnected."

"From me?"

Seven nodded once.

Kathryn held Seven's face between her own hands. They were warm and gentle, just as Seven knew they would be. She tipped Seven's chin toward her, bringing her lover eye to eye.

Seven recognized the woman's grit and determination in her eyes. "Listen to me, Seven of Nine," she said, with the voice full of command. "I know you need me right now in ways that can't be contained by captain and crewmember or even mentor and apprentice."

Seven could feel Kathryn's thumbs brushing her and she closed her eyes to allow herself to be subsumed by the calming rhythm and the skin-on-skin contact, no matter how small.

"Seven," Kathryn whispered. "Open your eyes."

Seven complied, reluctantly. "We are connected, darling," she said.

Seven could feel the puffs of air against her own mouth. She opened hers to inhale her lover's exhalations in a desperate move for a link.

As if Janeway understood, she smiled faintly. She took the woman's human hand and pressed it to her lower abdomen. "Here, Seven. A part of you is here inside of me, growing."

Seven's eyes wandered down to see what she felt. Her hand pressed against the tender flesh of her lover. "She's a part of both of us," Kathryn whispered, resting her forehead against Seven's. "If I didn't want you…if I didn't want her…I wouldn't be pregnant right now. Not at my age."

Seven's eyes caught Kathryn's when she laughed softly. "I'm 42, Seven. That's a little old even by twenty-fourth century standards." Kathryn tipped her head to capture Seven's gaze that had wandered down again. "But if I didn't want this child, I wouldn't have agreed to give up my coffee." She arched her brows for emphasis, bringing a faint mirthful expression to Seven.

"It's because you, darling dearest, are my personal dilithium crystal—" Kathryn nodded emphatically to Seven's dubious expression. "Yes, Seven of Nine. You give me focus. Just as surely as the crystals energize a starship, you give me the power to…fly—!"

"But—" Seven said, taking Kathryn's hand in her own. "I feel none of that."

"That doesn't mean it isn't true, Seven," she replied. "I know this is not ideal. We had ideal on a small, dusty planet surrounded by wonderful friends. Right now, I'm trying to get our bearings with the crew." Kathryn's expression grew serious. "We both knew something was wrong with the crew. The problem has been identified, but I still feel a need to hold you and Dani apart from me—not because I don't love you! I do—with all my heart, Seven! It's because I must protect you both."

Seven felt herself grow fully alert. "Protect us from what, Kathryn?"

"I—I—I'm not sure, Seven. The Doctor assures me that crew disposition should…_normalize_. Until that happens, I don't think we can seriously entertain the next step for us."

Kathryn's hand slipped behind Seven's neck, bringing her closer. "But that's all it is. An _appearance_ of distance, Seven." Kathryn's eyes jumped between Seven's. "I need your support, darling. Can you give it to me?"

"I believe I can," Seven finally said.

Kathryn tipped her head up. Moving slowly, she pressed their lips together. She pulled back to study her lover.

"Again," Seven commanded.

Kathryn smiled and kissed her again.

Seven sighed, as she slipped her long arms around the Captain's middle. The woman sagged against her. "Are you damaged?" Seven's ocular implant scanned her from head to toe, measuring her vital signs.

"I'm tired," Kathryn husked.

"Tired?" Seven's brows furrowed and she tipped her head. "Yet it is three hundred hours and you are in your regeneration uniform. Have you not regenerated?"

"Yes, I did. But I needed to see you."

Seven abruptly heaved Kathryn in her arms. She smiled faintly at a small yelp that issued forth. "I can't stay here," Kathryn said.

"You will not."

Seven felt Kathryn relax in her arms, even threading her own hands together at the back of her neck. Seven pecked Kathryn's lips and then gently lowered her to the mattress, where she moved between the woman's knees. Seven immediately set herself to the task of removing Kathryn's top. Kathryn closed her eyes, murmuring something unintelligible as Seven slipped her hands inside the shoulders, pushing it down.

"I'm serious, Seven," Kathryn said half-heartedly.

"You will not stay, Kathryn. Now please elevate your torso."

Seven removed and neatly folded the pajama shirt. "Lift your pelvis," Seven commanded. Kathryn complied and Seven removed her pants and underwear.

After folding the pants, Seven smiled to see Kathryn curled up in bed, near the middle. Seven removed her clothing and crawled on all fours to find a spot beside her lover, drawing the woman closer. "Good girl," Seven whispered before kissing the woman's forehead.

"I can't stay." Her bedraggled lover slurred her words against Seven's neck.

"Computer," Seven said. "Relay all communications from Captain's Quarters to VIP Quarters, Deck 3."

Kathryn snapped open a single, disapproving eye.

"_Relay complete."_

"Computer, log Captain Janeway as present in her quarters until six hundred hours. Encrypt this transaction. Authorization Seven of Nine Pi Rho Four Two Eridani."

"_Log and encryption complete."_

"Now you are officially not here." Seven ignored the one-eyed glare and pulled the woman closer. "Do not be contrary, Pips," she said against the woman's hair. She felt Kathryn pull her lips up for a smile. "This is merely a temporary accommodation to expedite your regeneration."

Kathryn tipped her head up, nudging Seven slightly. The Borg accepted the hint and the offered lips. It was a melting kiss, slow and warm. The crackle of gentle nips filled the room as the couple surfaced for air and submerged for union.

Only when Seven's lips meandered down to the sweet spot under Kathryn's ear did the Captain finally curl her hands around Seven's neck. Seven felt herself floating but, at the same time, feeling every curve of Kathryn's body next to her. This time index was consummate bliss, she noted.

Of all the things stolen by the Borg, it was the simple pleasure of human touch that she now realized was the most precious. As Borg, she had no other bond but the verbal one imposed a billion times over in the Hive Mind. Without it, a drone was an empty set; it was a Borg design to achieve total addiction.

The Borg never factored in the Janeway Effect. First the woman severed her from the addiction, cut off any retreat and then held onto Seven until she could stand on her own. As if that were not complete, she fell in love with Seven. Only now could Seven identify the exact moment when Captain Janeway had already fallen in love with her. It was Stardate 52619.2, when the Captain risked everything to retrieve her again from the Collective.

"I can hear the scraping of metal, darling," Kathryn murmured.

Seven brushed her mouth over Kathryn's ear. "What scraping metal are you referring to?"

"You're thinking too much and it makes me wonder if you'd rather be completing that report on this unclassified nebula we're floating in or—"

"There is no place I desire to be than with you." Seven nipped her way along her jaw to find the woman's waiting mouth.

"It certainly is good to lie in your arms." A gush of moisture broke between her legs when her lover hummed. "But you're contradicting yourself—a fact which I hate to point out."

Seven pulled back, reliving in perfect memory their argument in Holodeck One, when she demanded that Kathryn marry her or suffer a sexless consequence. "Perhaps so," she answered after reviewing the instant in time.

Kathryn's voice was rough, but oh-so-feminine. Its contralto qualities always seemed to make every erogenous zone inside of Seven thrum in sync. "The nights without you have been long, Seven."

Seven rubbed Kathryn's back in big circles, pressing her close and curling a thigh over Kathryn's. Seven pulled back to notice another one-eyed stare from her lover. "You wish to say something?"

"I was waiting."

"You wish for _me_ to say something?"

"I was waiting for you to point out that the long nights are a torture of my own making. For us both."

Seven's face remained implacable as she tucked Kathryn's head under her chin. "That data did not even register in my consciousness."

"In any case, Seven, thank you," Kathryn whispered. Her breath was warm against Seven's neck. "Thank you for your patience."

Kathryn slowly lifted her apologetic eyes. "Darling," she whispered. "How ever do you put up with me?"

Seven kissed her lightly on the lips. "I believe I do not know."

The answer brought a bubble of mirth up from Kathryn's belly. "There's a first!"

Seven propped her head up and rolled to her side. "You are mocking me."

Kathryn's hoots had subsided to gentle snorts. "No, I'm not," she wheezed. She held the azure serenity of Seven of Nine enthralled for several more minutes, a giggle erupting sporadically. After her laughter had mostly exhausted itself, Kathryn rolled to her side, placing a hand on Seven's hip. "Oh, Seven, do you know how long it's been since I've laughed?"

"Nine days, eleven hours, thirty-seven minutes and seventeen seconds."

Kathryn flicked an eyebrow in response.

"I know this because it is exactly the same amount of time I have not been mirthful either."

"Do you think it was Gweelee that we miss or us?" Kathryn pulled Seven's hips against her own. "Together." Then she slipped her thigh between Seven's. "Like this?"

Seven rubbed her hot center along the naked thigh, coating it with her moisture. The friction filled the room with soft squeaking noises. "The planet is irrelevant. It was merely the backdrop, not the catalyst," Seven said evenly.

Kathryn wondered how the ex Borg could logically argue a point in the middle—or the beginning, in this case—of lovemaking. But she decided she didn't really want to know. The only thing she wanted was to feel her. Kathryn slipped her hand down, finding the downy center.

Seven compressed her center down on the lean muscle mass of Kathryn's thigh. The Captain groaned at how wet her lover was. "Darling," she whispered. "Let me…."

Seven arched her back, giving Kathryn the smallest space to slip a single finger along the soaked center. Her eyes widened when she felt Seven's womanhood pulse under a single fingertip. "I've just started," she lamented. "And you're nearly finished. That's so not fair."

"I remain sexual stimulated during every waking nanosecond," Seven explained.

Kathryn watched the large breasts bounce as a closed-eyed Seven continued to stroke her center along the offered leg. "It is a result of the—"

Kathryn seized the woman's shoulders and captured the lips, silencing them briefly with a searing kiss. When Seven appeared to continue her train of professional thought, Kathryn flipped the woman on her back and her open mouth descended on her mouth. Seven moaned, feeling the imperious tongue slip and slide against her own. Its gyrations were usually rhythmic and Seven loved to swirl hers against it. But today, it was fickle and presumptuous, taking liberties that Seven found oddly wild and arousing.

Kathryn settled between the woman's thighs, rocking their centers together. "Kathryn," Seven cried. "Do not delay further!"

Kathryn chuckled as she adjusted herself, hearing the uncharacteristic sobs of protest from her ex-Borg lover. "Let me taste you, Seven," she whispered, knowing how much the woman loved to be caressed with her tongue.

"Together, Kathryn," Seven pleaded. "Let us melt together!"

Just as Kathryn found Seven's musky and wet center, she felt the woman nudge her legs open. "Perfect," Kathryn whispered as she obliged, opening them as wide as she could while arranging herself to take what Seven offered.

They each searched and found the other's swollen bundle of nerves. Simultaneous moans shot waves of pleasure out. Fingers slipped inside in. Their bodies rocked and contracted around each other.

Seven felt the orgasm blossoming and she opened herself up to it, giving herself to the mind-shattering experience. It was as if she had been deprived of light and the cloudless dawning drew her like a morning glory. And Seven cried out her lover's name and heard her own in return.

Wave upon wave of joy flooded them, until they were spent and panting. Kathryn collapsed to the bed, kissing the slick thigh.

"That was like the first time," Seven mused.

Kathryn grunted, drawing Seven to peek at her exhausted lover. Seven tugged at Kathryn up toward the head of the bed but her lover refused to move. So Seven retrieved a pillow and laid it at the foot of the bed, under Kathryn's weary head. She covered them both and spooned behind her.

"I love you."

"Me, too," Kathryn murmured before sleep took her.

=/\=

The morning watch raised the lights to twenty percent. Janeway was floating gently toward consciousness, dreaming that she was in the arms of her love. Seven felt so good snuggled up against her that she could even smell the soft strawberry scent of her hair.

When Kathryn felt soft lips nibbled just under her chin, her eyes snapped open. Wild blonde strands twisted under her. Her arms snaked over the woman's shoulders and she pulled her close.

"Good morning, Pips," came the adorably gruff greeting.

Kathryn kissed the top of the woman's head and hoisted a leg over her thigh to accomplish full possession. "It is now," she replied.

Kathryn smiled softly to see Seven struggle to flutter her eyes open. "Why now?"

Kathryn dipped her head to take the woman's lips. They had been so ripe and full last night (and early this morning), like sweet oranges. "Because I'm not dreaming and the most beautiful woman in the Delta Quadrant is in my arms," she whispered.

Seven's face remained stony. "Merely the Delta Quadrant?"

Kathryn rubbed the woman's back, playfully and lightly scratching it just like her lover adored. "I was in error," she said. "I should have said in both the Alpha and Delta Quadrants."

Seven looked at her lover suspiciously, making Kathryn throw her head back in a deep, throaty laugh still rough with sleep. Seven seized the opportunity to kiss up and down her throat. The move drew out a gasp and a shiver.

"You are seeking to provoke me," Seven accused before taking the drop of her ear in her mouth to suck.

"Oh, my," Janeway purred, straightening so she could pull the woman closer. She felt their coarse hairs tangle below. "I would never do that, Andy," she whispered. She cupped Seven's head. "Ever."

"Why did you qualify your assessment of my physical parameters?"

"I didn't realize you were so vain, Seven," she replied with a hint of laughter. "It seems so…inefficient." Janeway tried to swallow the silly smile touching her lips. Finally she gave into it.

Seven's serious expression only added to Janeway's amusement. "Besides, Seven, I've never been to the Beta and Gamma Quadrants so how—oh! Oh! What are you—?"

With the greatest of ease, Seven of Nine flipped Captain Janeway on her stomach and hoisted one of the pinned woman's knees up, exposing her sex from behind.

Seven's breasts pressed deliciously hard into Kathryn's back as she leaned over to whisper in her lover's ear, her hand lightly scratching the woman from thigh to back. "You were saying?"

Kathryn mumbled by necessity into the corner of a pillow. "How can I accurately compare your beauty to the other quadrants?—damn Seven!"

In the middle of Kathryn's justification, Seven had swiped the moistened cleft with a finger. It was hard enough to arouse but too light to provide any satisfaction.

"What is the difficulty, Pips?"

Kathryn bucked her hips, gyrating them lustfully. "I think you know," she said in a husky voice.

Kathryn sustained the position while Seven reared back to examine her intimately. Her sex was red, swollen and sopping wet. She teased the seam with such tenderness that Kathryn bucked again. "Why do you object?"

"I don't want a tip, Seven! I want your whole fucking hand!"

"But you toy with me," she replied teasing her fingers through the stray auburn curls.

"What do you want me to say? I'll say it! I'll say anything!"

Seven wondered off-handedly whether Kathryn's reaction were more a result of the "biological imperative" rather than a desire to make love. She straightened somewhat, considering her own reaction.

Kathryn tried to lift her head, but was shoved down. "What are you doing?"

"I am considering your reaction," she said. "And mine."

"Why?"

"As it relates to the Doctor's commentary about the effect of the theta radiation—"

"Fuck me, Seven!" Kathryn shouted this litany until three of Seven's fingers were pumping deep inside of the woman and her thumb began to massage the swollen crest. Seven divided her awareness, watching at once abstractly and passionately. She greatly reveled at being able to observe her fingers slide in and out while feeling Kathryn tightening herself around them. But she also wanted to prolong this for hours, though she knew the Captain would rebel at that.

Kathryn's sobs and pleas for release brought her out of her musings. Seven stopped her swiveling motions, bringing a loud protest to her lover's lips. "Why did you stop?"

"Perhaps you should consider doing this type of research in the Beta and Gamma Quadrants, since you deem yourself ignorant of—"

"Seven! You're a goddess! In any quadrant or universe! Now, please! Take care of me, darling!"

Seven smiled faintly at the woman, her own passion now consuming her. Her smile became luminescent when Kathryn cried out her release, as if she had not been taken already three other times the previous night.

Kathryn's final cries were hoarse. When Seven released her hold, Kathryn did not move. So Seven pushed the woman's rump to the side and Kathryn crashed to the bed, strands of hair caught in her eyelashes. Her mouth was open and her eyes closed. Seven stretched out beside her, watching her reaction with keen interest. Then she kissed the woman's strong chin.

"Hmm," Kathryn replied. "That was different."

"Different would be a superlative that may be positive or derogatory?"

"Oh, Seven," she whispered, letting her hand lazily graze Seven's shoulder blade. "It's so positive. Off the charts, positive! Out of this world, positive! So positive that…."

"Yes?"

"That I can't even form another coherent thought."

Seven smiled smugly. "You are very adept at encouragement."

"It's easy." Kathryn became serious and looked into Seven's eyes, tipping her chin upward, where Seven kissed her soundly. "You are very adept at loving me," she whispered. Kathryn scooted down to face her lover, sliding down her hand along a luscious expanse of feminine Borg.

"It is easy to love you, Kathryn," Seven replied quietly.

"That's not what you told me two days ago, if I may remind you."

Seven's faint smile made Kathryn giggle. "If you would allow me to complete my thought, Mrs. O'Nine…."

Kathryn gave a tremulous half grin. "All right, love."

"It is easy to love you when you are yourself," she said, kissing the woman's nose for emphasis. "Loving the vaunted Captain of a starship is a different equation altogether, similar to dividing a number by zero."

Kathryn laughed at her lover's obtuse references to mathematics. "It must be dreadful loving a Captain."

Seven stared at her lover, assessing her quietly. Finally, she raised her eyepiece in response. "You are attempting to be humorous."

"It really is awful, isn't it?" she replied.

"Again," Seven said, giving her lover a faintly reproving look.

Kathryn raised her hand. "Okay, I give up. No more mockery of you, darling. It's no fun now that you understand sarcasm."

Seven watched her until Kathryn laughed. "I'm sorry, Seven," she said with a chuckle. "Please, do go on."

As Seven collected her thoughts, she felt a hand slide down along her hip toward her ass cheek. The hand grabbed the flesh there while Kathryn offered the woman a saucy look. "You are so serious, my darling," she said. "Let the world go away for a little bit."

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded. "Hey, mom!" An electronic chirp at the door sounded, followed by a dull thud. "Why is the door locked? I'm hungry!"

Another girlish voice added: "So am I."

"Me, too," Kathryn whispered with a giggle.

Seven rose on her elbows and brushed a few stray strands from Kathryn's brow. "I believe the world refuses to 'go away.'"

Kathryn stole a quick kiss, jumped out of bed and ran to the en suite. "Well, then I'm glad I'm _officially _not here," she said over her shoulder before disappearing behind the door.

"Mom! Are you in there?"

Seven stared at the empty spot where had lover had laid just moments before. She could still see the imprints of her body on the mattress. Her Borg optical implant showed the vague red glow of body heat there. She wanted more time with Kathryn, so much more. But she knew she would receive less time. With the impending conversion of parts of the ship to accommodate generational components, with the impending birth of their daughter and with the constant needs of the eight-year-old, they would have less time. The thought brought a melancholy to Seven, like none she'd ever known.

Seven stirred back to reality when she heard Eridani inquire as to her whereabouts with the computer. She dressed quickly and met the ravenous girls in the living area.

Dani peeked her head in the bedroom and then turned to her mother. "What took so long?"

Seven was already stationed by the replicator, programming morning biomatter. "I took no more time nor any less time than required," Seven replied.

"Why are you in your robe?" Dani asked.

Seven looked down to find that her daughter was correct. She was wearing a green silken robe, embroidered with a colorful fish. It had been a gift from Kathryn during their six months planetside. Two plates materialized and Seven asked the girls to retrieve their own plates while she readied their juice.

When the two sat down at the table, Seven placed their drinks and then her own biomatter down. "Naomi Wildman," Seven said, watching the girl push eggs and hash browns around on her plate. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," she replied. "How's my mom?"

"I inquired early this morning. She is well, as is your brother."

"Is mom going to be okay?"

"Indeed," Seven replied. "The Doctor indicated that your mother may be discharged from sick bay within the next forty-eight hours. However—"

"Forty-eight hours?" both girls shrieked.

Seven looked from one girl to the other, realizing they were both distressed for different reasons. She hoped abstractly that when the baby was born that she would not be pulled in two simultaneous directions.

"I am only relaying the Doctor's prognosis," Seven said evenly.

"When can I see her and the baby?"

"I shall inquire with the Doctor and advise you later."

"Does he have a name yet?"

Seven frowned, realizing she had failed to anticipate that question. "I am not aware of a selected designation."

"I hope it's Gunnar," Naomi said. "That's the name I like."

Naomi waited for Dani to say something sarcastic, but she was surprised with the response.

Chewing a mouthful thoughtfully, Dani finally nodded. "I like it, too, actually."

"Perhaps," Seven said, "it is on the list for your mother to consider."

There was a chime at the door. Captain Janeway, hair brushed and uniform pressed, dashed into the living area. "Good morning," she said to the three.

Naomi hopped out of her chair, holding herself erect and still. "Captain Janeway," she offered, eyes looking forward.

Dani crinkled her nose at her classmate. "What are you doing, Naomi?"

Without taking her eyes off of some fixed object ahead, Naomi replied. "Captain on deck!" she whispered.

Dani rolled her eyes, while Cappie stepped up to the table. "At ease, crewman," Janeway offered in an official voice. "Did you manage any sleep after the ruckus of yesterday?"

Dani didn't look up at her mother, so Naomi replied. "Yes, considering I was in new quarters, my friends were hurt and my mom gave birth."

Janeway glanced at the half eaten plate of food in front of the girl. "I have a feeling today is going to be a better day for you, Naomi."

"Me, too," she said with a big grin.

Janeway put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, letting her thumb caress her. She leaned over slightly, trying to capture Dani's gaze. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said. Dani had tried to avert her eyes, but her mother's proximity made it difficult.

Janeway touched a pink slip of paper by her daughter's plate. "What's this?"

"The tooth fairy gave me a pass for an hour of holodeck time," she said glumly.

Naomi stood up, rising to her tiptoes to peer over her friend's plate. "She did?"

Janeway took the paper and read it. "That's really something," she said. "When I was a girl, all I ever got was a single credit for every tooth."

"At least you could buy stuff with credits," Dani said.

Janeway offered the slip of paper to Naomi, who was trying not to be intrusive as she read, but was nearly falling over Dani's chair. "Time is priceless," Janeway offered, but she was looking at Seven. Their shared look warmed her to the tips of her toes.

"It sucks because—"

Both of her mother's loud exclamation of her name made Dani's eyes go wide. "What?"

Janeway started to explain. "That is—"

"An inappropriate word," Seven finished. She tipped her chin at the replicator and Janeway got the message.

"Why?"

"It is an inefficient word," Seven replied. "Nor is it suitable for a girl of your maturity level. Where did you acquire this word?"

Dani stared at her mother. If they had been alone, she would have gladly shared the origin of the word was that pesky Borg implant in her prefrontal cortex. It was a future word that she had been ordered to use on Lt. Whats-his-face. Instead, she allowed her eyes to dart around the room. "Um," she whispered. "I can't remember."

Seven studied her daughter for a long moment, before deciding inextricably to not pursue the matter any further. Instead, Seven gestured to the piece of paper that Naomi carefully replaced beside Dani's plate. "Now please clarify why you are dissatisfied with the deciduous tooth exchange?"

Just as she was about to answer, Cappie sat down next to her. Dani could feel her Captain Mother's gaze and it burned her cheek. "Because," she replied in a tone of voice that said her mother should automatically understand the reason. "I'm still banned from the holodeck for the flying stunt thingy."

Both of her mothers' faces lit up with understanding. Janeway patted her daughter's arm. "I'm sure the Captain will make an exception to the sanction," she replied with humor. "It was in the line of duty, after all." Janeway smiled, warming when she was rewarded with a faint one in reply.

"Perhaps you and Naomi could go for a swim," Seven offered.

Dani struggled not to frown at the suggestion, especially when her Borg mother gave a clear warning with a subtle eyepiece lift. Naomi was already planning their outing, while Dani looked for something to say.

"Maybe all of us can enjoy the hour," Dani offered quietly, as she turned to see Cappie. "The whole gang and Crewman Tal, too."

"Oh, I think that could be arranged," Janeway replied. She laughed softly when she was rewarded with a large gappy grin.

The two girls chatted on about picnic supplies and bathing suits, when Seven interrupted. "Girls, it is time to dress for school." Neither complained but raced for the bedroom, leaving the two women alone at the table.

"Dani is so easy to please," Janeway said, with her cup of tea midway to her lips.

"She is," Seven replied. "The same is also true of her Borg mother. It is my hope that conclusion will be stored in your long-term memory."

Janeway took Seven's hand, lightly squeezing it as she spoke. "This separation won't last forever, darling. I promise you we will be together very soon."

Seven lifted Kathryn's hand to her lips, where she kissed her knuckles. "I will hold you to your…commitment."

Kathryn stood up, leaned over and captured Seven's lips. "You do that."

=/\=

**Note: The next few chapters shouldn't take as long (so check back soon) since they are mostly written and just need some details and texture. In fact, the next chapter is one of my very favorites. I can't wait to post it.**

**Oh, and I know you don't know what happened to Chakotay yet, not really. Don't worry. You'll read about it soon. **


	7. Just Dessert

A/N: I have good news and I have bad news. The bad news this is not my favorite chapter. But that's not to say it isn't good. Believe me, it has its moments. I just miscalculated. The good news is the next few chapters are practically written so they will be posted very quick compared to my usual speed, or lack thereof. So I hope you enjoy it and thanks for all the reviews.

**Quantum of Chaos**

**Chapter Seven: Just Dessert**

On her way down the corridor toward the turbolift, Captain Janeway felt suddenly aware of the eerie quiet in the ship. It took her a few moments to register the void: the male crewmembers were all confined to quarters or in sick bay until the Chief Medical Officer determined that testosterone levels were sufficiently lower. That meant that fifty-five percent of the crew were absent, one keenly felt during the start of the Alpha Shift, especially among the Bridge Officers.

As she arrived at the turbolift, a commbadge chirp alerted her to an incoming message. _"Tuvok to Captain Janeway." _

She smiled at the voice of her Chief Security Officer and her friend of more than fifteen years. Tuvok, being Vulcan, was not as susceptible to hormone imbalances as an average human male and was therefore exempt from the quarantine. The Doctor had also been able to reverse most of the viral agent that the Ket'zali had infected him with. Death would have to find another victim.

"Janeway here, Tuvok. It's good to hear your voice."

"Thank you, Captain. May I request your presence in sick bay?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, none that we are not already aware, Captain. However, there are two mutineers whose transgressions have required a more extensive inquiry."

"I'm on my way."

=/\=

Sick bay lights were at fifty percent. Every biobed was occupied by a crewmember, most of whom were unconscious. Tuvok, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres and both holographic doctors were in the medical suite. Janeway bypassed them to find Ensign Samantha Wildman sitting up.

Her hair, usually adequately coiffed, stuck out wildly and dark circles stained her eyes.

"Samantha," Janeway said softly. "How are you feeling today?"

Samantha offered a wan smile. Only then did Janeway follow the length of the woman's arm, where a hand rested on a transparent case. Resting inside was an unbearably small, pallid child with a raven black tuft of unruly hair. His torso was encased by a fetal monitor that encircled his chest.

Overcome with so many emotions, Janeway's eyes teared as she tipped her head to regard the boy.

"He is so beautiful," she said. Then the Captain looked up at Samantha. "How is he doing?"

"For a child born 19 weeks too early, he's really holding his own," she said sadly.

"He looks like he could fit in the palm of my hand," she said.

"The Doctor said if he can hang on for another few weeks, then his…." Samantha sobbed, covering her mouth with a palm. Janeway offered her a sympathetic look, patting her arm in comfort.

"He's a fighter," the Captain said. "Like his mother."

Samantha looked down at her fingers, where she kneaded a blanket. "I don't feel like a fighter."

"The brave ones never do because they're doing what they must," Janeway said. "But, believe me, you are. Your son needs you and Naomi needs you."

Samantha looked up. "Oh, God," she sobbed again. "I haven't even thought about Naomi. What does that say about me?"

"It says only that you've got a lot on your plate right now. Naomi is fine. Seven is taking good care of her for you."

"Seven is such a good friend."

"The very best friend," Janeway smiled faintly. "Just hang in there, Samantha."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Thank _you_," she said. "Please don't hesitate to let us know if you need anything."

=/\=

Captain Janeway looked grimly around her. The others occupying the biobeds were all males. Then she saw it. The shimmer of a force field held both her First Officer and Lt. Kim. It was a grim reminder that these men, whom she had considered family up until now, were dangerous. _Where will this end?_ she wondered as she stepped into the Doctor's office.

"Good morning," she said.

Dr. von Behring offered a perfunctory greeting, while both Tuvok, B'Elanna and the Chief assessed her closely. It took no more than a moment for it, but she knew she'd been measured and found to be sufficient.

There was a request from Samantha Wildman and Dr. von Behring excused himself to assist her. The Chief sealed the room for privacy. He leaned himself against the desk and crossed his arms, a decidedly human stance.

"What's this about?" Janeway asked.

Tuvok handed her a padd, whose data consisted of a list of seven names. "What is this?" she asked.

"Those are the names of the women I interviewed last night and this morning regarding the incident with Commander Chakotay."

"Incident?" the Chief Engineer objected. "You make this sound like a conspiracy."

Tuvok lifted a brow at the volatile outburst. "It is an incident, Lieutenant."

"No, it isn't! How can you call it that? Chakotay was the mutiny ringleader! Not some—"

"Hold on, B'Elanna," Janeway said reasonably. "Can I just get the background first before we dive headlong into a discussion about semantics?"

The Klingon crossed her arms and glared at Tuvok. "Fine, Captain."

Janeway bit back an acerbic reply. Tempers were flaring, unusually so. But hormones were the real culprit so allowances would be made.

Janeway thumbed through the padd. "I thought this was about the mutiny," she said, dropping the padd to her thigh and giving her Security Chief a dubious lift of a brow.

"Indeed," he said. "It is also about the events that lead directly to Commander Chakotay's body mutilation."

"Mutilation?" Janeway gasped.

Tuvok raised a handful of photos, but refused to release them when the Captain took them. "I warn you, Captain," he said. "These are disturbing."

Lt. Torres threw her hands up in frustration. "Perhaps they could also be called Chakotay's just desserts."

Janeway gasped again as she saw her First Officer dangling nude from a fusing piton-mounted artificial anti-gravity inhibitor. "Why—How—did they do this? I have so many questions, I don't even know where to begin."

"Why?" B'Elanna blurted. "Why? He knocked these women up, Captain!"

"Lieutenant!" the Doctor objected. "You can't just it say it like that. These are women and fetuses. Not—"

"I'm surprised Seven isn't incubating her own little, bouncing toaster," B'Elanna retorted with a smirk.

Janeway paled. She forced herself to look at the pictures of her First Officer in a compromised position instead of the woman insulting her lover and their baby.

"Lieutenant Torres," Tuvok replied after watching the Captain for a moment. "Please desist in these emotional outbursts. They are counterproductive and unprofessional."

"I knew he was screwing half the—"

"B'Elanna, please," Janeway whispered, her eyes still glued to a picture but not really seeing it.

Something in the Captain's voice gave the keyed up officer a little pause. She followed Janeway's gaze and then the Chief Engineer pointed to a belt made of black poly-xenylon fabric cinched around his chest in the picture. "This was lined with stem bolts. The anti-gravity inhibitor sensed the metal—"

"Circumventing its safety protocols to hang Chakotay from the upper deck?" Janeway said sharply.

"I thought it was pretty ingenious," B'Elanna replied.

"Were you there?" Janeway finally looked up at the Klingon hybrid.

"You know I was, Captain," she said. "I was undercover and I got front row seats to Chakotay's warp-factor smackdown."

"Lieutenant," Janeway replied sharply, flourishing the holophotos in the air. "This violates at least fifteen Starfleet regulations that I can think of."

"Twenty four," Tuvok corrected.

"Were you a party to this?"

B'Elanna crossed her arms. "So, what about what _he_ did to the those women? Doesn't that mitigate culpability?"

Janeway inhaled sharply. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

=/\=

Lt. B'Elanna Torres felt the rage bubbling up inside of her, as her former Maquis Captain held his phaser up, careful to rotate the barrel at each menacing woman. "Like I said before, ladies…get back to work."

The women were sniveling, even though they had the upper hand,_ the warrior woman thought. She detested women who willingly yielded the higher ground. It was not the Klingon way and certainly not the Way of the Feminist. _

_B'Elanna could sense the women begin to doubt themselves, their right to justice. The situation was dredging up old memories for her growing up on Kessik IV. She was the only Klingon child there, among humans. That drew bullies like flies to honey. She'd found a way to survive. B'Elanna Torres had learned to give herself away, bit by little bit. When her human father had left her Klingon mother, the part of herself that she'd managed to save sunk deep inside, flooded by the grief and the rage. The howling fury had saved her, of course. She'd entered Starfleet Academy, but found her full zenith among the Maquis, where she learned to take all of herself back, through grit and spitfire. _

_Crewman Evelyn Romtau's question re-ignited the rage inside of her._

"_Who the hell do you think you are?" Romtau asked, patting the artificial gravity inhibitor perched on a shoulder. _

"_Your commanding officer, that's who." Chakotay eyed his six assailants, giving each a measuring and appreciative stare. "And if you don't like that one, how about the man with the phaser who has no qualms…." _

_Torres was surprised that Chakotay didn't sway from his own intoxicated sense of power. It was ironic that a member of the Maquis would seek to dominate these women. The Maquis arose from the very ashes of vanquished settlers left to fend for themselves when the Federation just handed over their land to Cardassia in a despicable agreement of cowardice. _Chakotay was fighting on the wrong side,_ she thought. It was the last thing B'Elanna remembered before she decided to intervene._

"_Or I'll blast you into the next decade or—what the hell?"_

A brawny but feminine arm circled Chakotay's neck and before he realized it, the man was in a Klingon headlock. Chakotay wasn't a Klingon and he was no match for her natural Klingon musculature. Under her martial hands, he was like a rag doll.

_The other women cried out as they swarmed him. _

=/\=

Janeway studied her Chief Engineer. B'Elanna had always been a hot head. Janeway had dismissed it as a sign of culture rather than a character flaw. The Captain wondered if she had chosen her spy poorly, though she knew she had little choice at the time.

"Are you telling me, B'Elanna, that the women cried as in—?"

"It was a war cry, Captain," she said, completely unabashed. "These women were angry and, if you ask me, they had a right to be."

"Regardless," Janeway said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You can't take justice into your own hand."

B'Elanna's face contorted in frustration. "If they hadn't, then you'd be drifting in an escape pod, along with your daughter."

The Captain couldn't help her flush, especially where her daughter was concerned. She recognized the paradox. For the millionth time on this voyage, Captain Janeway wished that she was not gifted with the ability to see all sides of an argument. It was what made her a consummate diplomat. It also made the burden of command that much more painful to bear, particularly when her sense of justice superceded the crew's desire to return home.

Janeway sighed, holding off judgment. She looked down at the pictures again and shivered. The remaining five snapshots captured a single procedure.

"Who took these pictures?"

"Gilmore took the first two," she said.

When Janeway didn't hear any more explanation, she looked up just in time to see B'Elanna lift a defiant chin.

"I took the last five."

"Why?"

"I thought Gilmore could stomach this type of…" B'Elanna bunched her lips and looked up, pensive. "This type of effort, especially when you consider her role on the Equinox."

The history brought uncomfortable expressions to the Starfleet Officers. What Equinox crewmembers had done to survive in the Delta Quadrant—namely use the life-force of another species for propulsion—it was horrifically barbaric by any Federation standard.

B'Elanna shrugged. "For whatever reason, Gilmore finally dropped the camera when he was lanced."

=/\=

The man had been stripped and hogtied in a matter of minutes. "Let me down," Chakotay growled. "Or so help me God, I'll—"

_Fernandez patted his ass cheek condescendingly. "You're a little out of your league, little boy," she sneered in an echo of his earlier taunt. "Don't you think?"_

"_Especially in light of this?" Harper produced a tritanium surgical pin that glittered in the bright lights of the shuttle bay. _

"_What are you going to do?" he asked. _

_Fernandez laughed at the hint of fear implicit in the question. "Ah, what's da matter?"_

_Chakotay looked at B'Elanna. "I took you under my wing, B'Elanna. I gave you what your own father never did. I gave you a sense of purpose, of pride and self-worth. Don't do this to me."_

"You also promised to throw my husband out an airlock," she derided.

_Romtau slipped some gloves on. "Okay, ladies," she said. "With or without anesthesia?"_

"_Without," they all said in unison. "Just like our labor."_

=/\=

The Captain swallowed hard and stared uncomprehendingly at her Chief Engineer.

"What?" B'Elanna asked.

"I'm just…." Janeway touched her temple, feeling a slow rise in pain. "I'm a little…shocked that grown women who are also Starfleet Officers—"

"Have you never felt that kind of betrayal?"

The letter from her once fiancé Mark Johnson fluttered in her mind. He'd lost hope, given up on her. Yes, she knew that kind of betrayal, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let that color her judgment. "That is completely beside the point, Lieutenant. There is absolutely no excuse for the kind of pain that was inflicted on this man."

B'Elanna frowned at her Captain. "This man would have taken Voyager from you and thrown you out an airlock. The same man that intended to get rid of your daughter, too. That man, you mean?"

Janeway stared at the Chief Engineer for so long that Tuvok finally entered the fray. "Lieutenant Torres, an attempted mutiny does not mitigate any crime on him. Please continue so that we may ascertain the need—if any—for an official inquest."

"Official inquest," B'Elanna said. Her cranial ridges seemed more prominent in her disbelief. "What about—?"

"B'Elanna, please," Janeway pleaded.

"Fine," she replied. The woman found the only chair in the office and threw herself in it. She crossed a leg, shaking her foot unmercifully as she continued.

"Please do help yourself, Lieutenant," the Chief sneered, gesturing toward the chair.

She slowly swiveled her head and glared at him. "I'm pregnant," she hissed. "If you'd had a chivalrous algorithm in your program, you would have offered me a chair."

The Doctor looked askance at the Klingon hybrid, whipping out his medical tricorder to wave it over her. "Well, I'd say your testosterone levels are…" He brought it closer to his holographic eyes. "Normal?"

B'Elanna smirked. "It's genetics, Doctor."

Janeway finally came to herself. "All right, people," she said. "B'Elanna, can you please proceed. Without the theatrics, this time."

=/\=

_Ensign Shona Harper rolled out a blue Starfleet issue towel on the floor, under Chakotay just where he could see its contents. Long, pointed and hooked Medical instruments clanked, settling in a neat little row. _

"What are you doing?" Chakotay asked again.

_She held up a long, slender trocar needle, with a thick black grip. She lightly tapped his hip and Chakotay spun around. Harper looked down disapprovingly at his genitalia, his penis hanging between a raven black triangle of hair and dangling scrotum. _

_She glanced up at the other women, all gathered around. "We've all seen this before," Harper said. _

"_I haven't," B'Elanna replied. "Now I'm glad we never became lovers."_

_The comment brought chuckles to the women, but the First Officer burned red in fury. "When I get out of this, you are going to pay."_

_Fernandez smacked his bare ass cheek, the slap reverberating in the nearly empty shuttle hangar. "We're already going to pay, pendejo. Four to six months from now. All of us. But you're going to pay now."_

"_And later," Romtau said, her voice a soft lilt. _

"_Now where were we?" Harper asked. "Oh, yes. All right, crewmates. Keep him steady." She nudged his knee open and his expression became sheer terror when he saw her concentration focused on his manhood. _

_He thrashed with everything he had. Though his arms and legs were tied, he was still able gyrate freely when the women lost their grip on him and backed away. _

_Fernandez wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. _

"_I'm not a push over," Chakotay growled. _

"_You will be after we're done with you."_

_Before they could begin a second run on him, the ship began to rock. In the shuttle bay, the engine whine as the ship fought the pull of the light beings was nearly intolerably. The women managed to cover their own ears, but Chakotay howled in pain as he was unable to protect his own. _

_When the attack had ended, the women dropped their arms and regarded their pretty. He was grimacing and thrashing, forcing the women to back off yet again. _

_Finally, B'Elanna raised her hands, taking over the mission. "I'm not really sure what you're trying to do…." She glanced at the surgical tools in Harper's hand. "But I've got a pretty good idea. So here's what we're going to do." _

_She whispered some instructions and in five minutes, Chakotay's already bound hands and feet were tied together and anchored to the floor with another fusing piton. A woman stood beside each of his sinewy flanks. _

_Harper smacked his buttock. "Okay, little flower, open up!" _

_Some of the women glanced at Harper curiously. "What?" she said. "That's what he said to me…" She shrugged. "During our first time."_

_The women shared meaningful looks, but only B'Elanna had the temerity to ask. "Were you a virgin?"_

_Harper tried to act as if it didn't matter—it didn't matter that she'd given herself to a cad. It didn't matter that she was carrying his child. The baby was now hers and hers alone. To hell with him. "Yeah," she whispered, rubbing one tritanium piercing needle against the Chamberlen forceps. "I was innocent."_

"_You loved it," the man facing the deck rumble._

_Harper pinched some dark, tender flesh between his scrotum and rectum, causing the man to howl. "Yeah, well, I loved you, asshole."_

"_Stop it!" he howled. "I'm sorry! Okay! I thought we all knew the risks of sex!"_

_Gilmore sobbed as she walked toward his head, squatting down to look him in the eye. "They're babies, Chakotay," she whispered. "Not risks. Not statistical improbabilities. Not ventures. Babies! And if you were half the man I thought you were, you would own up to what you've done."_

"I'll give them my name," he said, looking into Gilmore's blue eyes. Suddenly he realized they reminded him of Seven.

His pained expression made Gilmore tip her head in wonder.

With a loud, disapproving sigh, Porter stomped over and pulled Gilmore to her feet. "His tokens are cheap, Marla," she said. "Don't you have his number yet?"

Marla brushed her blonde strands back from her shoulder, looking down longingly at the man. A well of sadness bubbled up and she reluctantly nodded. "Okay," she squeaked.

Harper again pinched the flesh at the man's perineum. His bucking and flaying were useless this time as the pitons held Chakotay firmly in place just as they would serve to anchor a shuttle during a storm.

Harper glanced at the piercing needle. In one motion, she pierced the man's flesh perpendicular to his penis, lodging a small ring. Chakotay screamed loud and long, but Harper calmly extended her palm. "I need the finishing piece."

Romtau placed the bead that would seal off the piercing with a ball to enclose the circle.

That's when the impulse engines were cut. The shove from the beings of light threw the women clear of Chakotay and then the Chief's nerve gas knocked them unconscious.

=/\=

"What purpose did this mutilation serve?" Janeway asked Torres.

She shrugged. "It's a guiche piercing," she said. "I'd never heard of it until then."

"Guiche piercing?" Janeway replied turning to the doctor for elaboration.

The Doctor handed the Captain a padd, a journal entry titled "Male Guiche" was written across the top. "I believe the women were going to perform a series of procedures beginning with the first. Their next step would have been to pierce the man's penis."

Janeway looked horrified. "Why, Doctor?" Before he could answer, Janeway turned to Tuvok. "What did the women have to say for themselves?"

"It was a male chastity belt," Tuvok explained.

"A what?" Janeway blanched, looking to the Chief for clarification. "Is that possible?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor said. "In theory, a clip at the penis head could be anchored to the one at his perineum, making erection painful and impossible."

Janeway scratched his head. "This violates so many ethics, not to mention regulations, I don't even know where to begin." She paced the room. "If we were in the Alpha Quadrant, I would haul these women…" Janeway regarded B'Elanna Torres. "Including you…" She pointed a quaking finger at the woman. "…to the nearest Starbase for a Starfleet tribunal."

"That's the difference between us, Captain," B'Elanna said slowly and deliberately, not shying away from the fierce blue-gray gaze. "I believe that sometimes you have to make your own justice. That's what I found appealing in the Maquis."

The Captain shook her head, disgust touching the edges of her mouth. "That is a big difference," she said. "I believe in the rule of law."

"Before you convict the women," the Doctor said, earning a sharp glare from the Captain, "may I remind you they were as much victims of the theta radiation as the men."

Janeway leveled a supersonic glare at the hologram. "How can you even say that?"

He handed the Captain another padd. "I can say that because I have all the data, Captain. You do not. Here are their hormone levels. Testosterone levels were off the charts, even for a male elephant. When you factor in the typical emotional dementia that pregnancy may cause…."

Janeway pursed her lips and she paled, earning her an eyebrow raise from the Emergency Medical Hologram. But she remained silent about her situation, and so did he.

"…Then I believe you have grounds for 'mitigating circumstance,'" the Chief said.

Janeway recognized the cant of the Starfleet Advocate General. The hologram had been brushing up on his case law, no doubt concerned for all of his patients.

"In any case, Captain," Tuvok finally added, "diminished capacity does seem to play a vital role, as does a crime of passion. You, as the commanding officer, must weigh the needs of the many against the needs of the one."

Janeway scrutinized her Security Chief, surprised at his apparent shift toward lienency. "What do you mean?"

"To punish Chakotay, the leader of the mutiny would do nothing to ease crew divisions."

She raised her chin a millimeter, only now seeing what Tuvok had evidently considered the multiple factors for quite some time. "Go on."

"If you punish the women, you victimize them again."

Janeway squeezed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth. Yet another paradox. _Damn, I really hate those!_ Her decision to destroy the Caretaker's array came to her mind. It was her choice in that no-win scenario that stranded them here.

She heard the whirring of the medical tricorder and snapped her eyes open in a nuclear blast of a glare.

"Now, Captain," the Chief said. "I am responsible for your well-being. Don't give me that look." He snapped the tricorder closed. "In any event, you are reading normal…if a trifle tired."

She narrowed her eyes a fraction of a millimeter in warning. He raised his holographic arms in surrender. "As I said, you are fine."

"If the three of you have obviously talked about this already…." The comment was confirmed by meaningful looks between her officers. "Then what are your recommendations?"

=/\=

Janeway glanced down, the burden of command taking its toll in the twinkle of her eyes and the set of her shoulders. "All right," she finally said. "I can see all of your points. I don't like it. But I will give them all their chance."

Lt. B'Elanna Torres nodded once. "Good because these women deserve the chance."

Janeway let the comment pass, before dismissing her. The Doctor was called away, leaving her and Tuvok alone in the sick bay office.

"Captain," he said. "There is another matter that requires your attention." He handed her another padd.

"You've been busy, Mr. Tuvok," she whispered amiably, though she felt none of the mirth she projected.

As she completed the file, the Captain lifted her chin, massaging the back of her neck. "I'd heard that Lt. Kim had struck my daughter, but this…." She handed it back to Tuvok. "What happened exactly?"

Tuvok described in vivid detail the sequence of events that lead to finding Eridani Janeway and Harry Kim unconscious in the Jeffries Tube 47 on Deck 7.

"So you are telling me that my eight-year-old daughter launched herself onto the Lieutenant as he descended the ladder?"

"It was an ingenious tactic, Captain," he said. "She leveraged twenty-nine kilograms into seven hundred and ten Newton-meters."

"She's eight, Tuvok! It's not her job to defend the ship."

"Captain," he said quietly. "I do not believe it was the ship she was defending. Her tactic may have saved her own life."

"Why do you believe that?"

"If she had not resisted, if Crewman Tal and the Borg children had not helped her resist, there is no doubt that she would have been ejected into an escape pod prior to the Doctor anesthetizing the crew."

She paled and suddenly felt the need to throw Harry Kim in the brig, compound fractures be damned. Janeway turned to see Dr. von Behring running a bone-knitter over the man's femur and tibia. "How will we ever trust each other again?" she asked quietly.

"Time," he said.

Janeway looked astonished at his seemingly trite reply. "If you are suggesting that time will heal all wounds—"

"I stated nothing of the kind," the Vulcan replied. "Time is movement within the other three dimensions."

He paused to see if she were going to argue such a rudimentary point.

Janeway scratched her temple. "Tuvok," she said gently. "I really—"

"Please indulge me, Captain. And you did inquire."

She sat down and leaned out, gesturing with a hand. "Do go on."

"We could predict seasons and honor our deities according to this cycle."

"You mean because this movement was consistent?"

"Yes, and our own movements within this matrix can also be observed," he added.

She brightened. "And to give and receive trust, we must observe and be observed moving, conducting our lives, if you will."

"Yes, that is so."

"And to observe it requires _esprit de corps!_" She closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. "Tuvok, you, my friend, are brilliant."

"And you are fatigued, Captain."

"No, no," she replied, her eyes still closed. "I'm thinking."

"Captain," he finally said. "There is the third matter of your whereabouts last night."

She snapped her eyes open and stood ramrod straight. "What do you mean, Commander?"

Tuvok offered the Captain a disappointing look. "Did you really believe that Seven of Nine's computer legerdemain could be concealed from me?"

"What are you trying so hard not to say, Tuvok?"

"I am aware you spent the night in Seven's quarters, Captain."

She opened her mouth to speak and snapped it shut. Captain Janeway hesitated, sensing the uneven ground she walked. "I was with…." Something told her that Tuvok was aware of more than he revealed and that trust must begin with her own "movements" on the ship. Trust and integrity, both hallmarks of her career. Janeway knew she could not alter course now. "Yes, I was there," Janeway replied quietly.

Tuvok's expression softened a fraction. "Thank you for your candor."

Suddenly, Janeway found her fingertips interesting, a fact which annoyed her. "We are in a—Seven and I, that is," she said. After a moment Janeway forced herself to look at this man she'd known for nearly her entire Starfleet career. "We are in a…relationship."

"You share custody of a daughter," he stated logically. "Your relationship is evident."

Captain Janeway nearly groaned and wondered if the Vulcan was being deliberately obtuse to prove a perverse point. "It's more than that, Tuvok," she said carefully. "We spent the night together."

Tuvok studied the Captain for a long moment.

She knew his patience was practiced, with years of experience in the Vulcan meditation. There was no way she could win a game of diplomatic ambiguity.

"We've spent many, many nights together," she added.

Janeway sighed at the single arched Vulcan eyebrow she'd managed to evoke from the stoic man. "We are lovers."

"That explains your fatigue," he said evenly.

Janeway brushed the corner of her mouth with her thumb and made toward the door. There was no way he could know of the other small detail and she had no intention of telling him.

As she nearly sprinted passed him to get out of the office, the Vulcan spoke. "Then I shall overlook the harmless breach of communicator protocols," he said.

"Thank you," she replied wryly.

"However, Captain," he said.

The two words were spoken, just as her first foot set down outside of the medical confine. She spun around, fearful his comments may be overheard.

"Yes?"

"There is a Vulcan saying—'a slumbering lover wakes up alone.'"

She grimaced, looking for telltale signs that the unemotional man was joking. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Do not squander this opportunity to acquire a more permanent human affiliation."

Janeway couldn't help herself. A quivering smile stretched her lips. "I didn't realize you were such a romantic, Tuvok."

"Romance is irrelevant," he stated. The phrase reminded Janeway of her lover. Her grin deepened. "But it is difficult to lead within a void."

The Security Chief stepped breezily past her, leaving her to stew with her thoughts. The Captain rubbed one eye with the heel of her hand. How could she ever introduce her lover to the crew if she could hardly do it to someone she trusted implicitly.

=/\=

The doors to Astrometrics slid open. Six feet of blonde curves stood at her post. She turned, inquiringly toward the entrance with typical Borg indifference. Janeway's stomach fluttered to see the subtle shift to complete joy.

"Good morning," Janeway said.

"Captain," she replied, turning toward the charting of the new region of space. "How may I assist you?"

Janeway leaned an elbow on a panel. "How about a good morning kiss before we get down to business?"

Seven's hands froze midway to the console and she slowly regarded the Captain. "I believe that duty has been fulfilled," she replied without a hint of humor. "Multiple times."

"Duty is it?" Janeway replied with a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Since this is an official visit," she said, gesturing the padd in the Captain's hand, "you may order me to provide you with a suitably oral greeting."

Janeway approached her, laying the padd on the console. Her fingertips skimmed the woman's sleeves to her shoulder. Then Janeway palmed the woman's shoulder blade. "I'm not looking for suitable, Seven of Nine."

Only then did Seven notice the tension around her eyes and mouth. "What has happened, Kathryn? Is Eridani—?"

"Dani's fine. But can I have a kiss first? I'd prefer not to order—"

Seven covered her mouth in an offering of possession and comfort. Her arms slipped around the Captain, pulling her close. Just as quickly as it had started, the kiss was over and Seven stood at attention a foot away.

"You are ill," Seven replied, scrutinizing the woman head to toe.

"No, not physically," she replied, leaning the console. "I thought I should give you some news."

Seven waited quietly for Janeway, who looked away at the viewer. The star clusters Seven was mapping had never been seen by Federation eyes. It was all new.

"Kathryn," Seven said, stepping closer, but not touching. She glanced at the entrance before taking the woman's hand.

"It is about Dani," she said, looking at the long, nimble fingers of her lover intertwined with her own. "And Chakotay. He was injured when six women assaulted him."

"Assaulted him?"

"Evidently, he impregnated all six women."

Janeway wasn't sure what kind of reaction she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the one she got.

"He is quite…prolific," she said. "What of Dani?"

Janeway elaborated on the scenario between Eridani and Lt. Kim. She felt the ex Borg's grip tighten. "Seven," she said. "You won't try to exact your own vengeance on Mr. Kim. Will you?"

Seven's distant gaze refocused on her lover. "No, I will not," she replied.

"Seven, I'm serious."

"As am I, Captain," she said with a distant expression. Then Seven inclined her head to peck Kathryn's lips. "I will not harm Lt. Kim."

Captain Janeway took one more taste of Seven's lips before she relinquished the woman. She tugged her tunic down. "I have a meeting with Chakotay and Harry in my ready room. Afterward, I want us both to sit down with Dani to discuss…."

Something in Seven's expression made Janeway rethink her plan. "On second thought, I think it would be best to meet with our daughter in the VIP quarters."

"Very well," she said. "Eleven hundred hours?"

"Perfect," she replied on her way out.

=/\=

Captain Janeway fiddled with her workstation keys in her Ready Room. Then she closed the monitor. Then she stood up, tugging down her tunic. She looked around and then at the replicator. Coffee. She felt like a dull blade underwater without it. Every cell inside of her cried out for it. She pinched the bridge of her nose. No, no. This is temporary. I am master of the coffee. It is not master of me.

This meeting would go so much better with coffee. She could not deny that thought. She would need to be at her best for this meeting with Chakotay and Lieutenant Kim. So much hung in the balance…a bright future for Voyager, crew unity and basic morale.

A soft door chime sounded. "I can do this," she replied.

Janeway noticed the changes immediately. Chakotay's hair was cut short, just as he used to wear it when they'd met. His thunderbird tattoo on his right cheekbone was gone. His uniform was completely regulation. And he walked gingerly to the reception area near the transparent steel windows.

Pictures of Chakotay strung up flashed in her mind and Janeway literally shook her head to rid herself of the images.

Mr. Kim caught her eye and she watched him look over his shoulder and then over hers as if he were expecting someone else.

Gone was Harry Kim's outlaw swagger. His baby face would never return as well, she thought remorsefully. Not with a nick on his left eyebrow. She also frowned because his supreme self-confidence seemed to have evaporated as well.

"Gentlemen," she said, offering them both a cup of tea. She sat in a lone soft chair to the side while they each occupied opposite ends of the long couch, with Chakotay closer. "How are you both feeling?"

There was a painful silence into which Kathryn wanted to pour her best wishes, her hopes for them, her aspirations for their future. But that would be a mistake. She would be seen as trying too hard. So she waited for them.

Chakotay turned to smile at Lt. Kim, his endearing dimple twinkling brightly. Janeway had missed his good-natured friendship. "Well, I suppose I'll go first, if you don't mind, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened a fraction and he cleared his throat. "Oh, no, not at all. I assumed—I mean—go ahead, Commander."

"I don't know about you, Harry, but I've been pretty tired," he said. "The Doctor says that's normal when you are being weaned off of the testosterone-adrenaline high."

Kathryn looked at Harry, who opened his mouth but remained silent. He adjusted himself in his chair and bounced a knee, spilling some of the tea on his pants. "Oh," he said, looking down. "I'm sorry!"

Kathryn was up instantly, offering him an additional cloth napkin. "It's okay, Harry," she said.

He set the teacup and saucer down on the table and daubed himself slowly.

He's stalling, she thought.

He shook the napkin out and folded it so the wet spot was up, laying it across his knee. Harry smoothed it over, watching his fingers as they pressed the cloth.

"Lieutenant Kim," Captain Janeway said.

His eyes snapped up. "I'm sorry, Captain."

"You said that already," she said with a hint of amusement.

He glanced down at the dark stain on his thigh. "No, not for the spill—I mean—wait! Yes for the spill and forhittingyourdaughter." Harry started to pant, as he tugged at the collar of his tunic.

Janeway inhaled deeply and moved forward on her seat, resting the palms of her hands on her knees. "You want to dispense with the chit chat so soon," she replied with a tremulous smile. "Fine. We can do that."

"I'm sorry," he replied again.

Janeway raised a hand to stop another round of blathering. "I have asked you both to come so that we may discuss our future."

Harry's shoulders stiffened, while Chakotay was the picture of relaxation.

"In the past two weeks, we have all done things and said things that were not within our nature," she replied. "I did not ask you here to begin an official inquest, nor a tribunal, nor a court martial. I wanted to let you know that I am aware of what transpired in the last twenty four hours—all of it. There were extenuating circumstances. You will retain your ranks, but my trust you will have to earn back."

Harry visibly melted, a tenuous smile breaking across his lips.

"But what I can do officially has its limits, gentlemen. Harry, I cannot allow a rift to remain between you, my daughter, Naomi Wildman, the Borg children and Crewman Tal."

"I'm sorry, Captain," he said softly again, averting his eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, too softly for him to hear. Captain Janeway wanted to take his cheeks in her hands and kiss his forehead, as a mother would do. But she wasn't his mother and he wasn't a boy. "My question to you is, do you think you can rebuild a relationship, not only with them but with the other crewmembers who didn't defect?"

"Yes," he said in a voice he deepened. "I can. I can do that."

She sat back, continuing to eye the young man. "I would like for you to offer a training course in self defense."

"Self defense? Me?"

"Yes, when I spoke with your mother on the day we left port…." Janeway smiled at the look of horror on the young man's face at the mention of his meddling mother. "It's okay, Harry. She just told me your were an expert in Anbo-Jitsu."

"An expert? Hardly," he moaned with an eye roll. "I took lessons, like every teenager."

"Wonderful," she said. "When can you start?"

Harry frowned. "Well, I suppose I can start after the Doctor clears me. Who will be my judoka—my pupils?"

"You'll start with the children." Janeway hopped up from her chair at the horrified look. "Then the rest of the crew. But you'll do fabulous, Lieutenant."

He stood up, a little dazed. "Is this punishment, Captain?"

Janeway ushered him toward the door. "Oh, Harry, don't think of it like that," she chided. "It's togetherness. It's camaraderie. It will build trust and _esprit de corps_."

"I don't think I like the sound of this." Lt. Kim stood at the door and looked pointedly at the science station. He blew out some air and mumbled something under his breath.

Janeway patted his shoulder. "Oh, you'll do fine. We'll talk later."

She stared for a moment at the sliding door and then she pulled her tunic down. She turned on her heels and marched back up to sit next to Chakotay.

"You handle him very well."

"It's not retribution," she insisted.

"Of course not," he said. "Children are benign creatures." That twinkling dimple was back and Janeway couldn't help but smile at his gentle humor.

"It'll build character at the very least," she finally replied. They shared a good laugh and Janeway touched his arm. "It is so good to have you back, Chakotay."

He placed his own hand on hers. "It's good to be back. I feel like I've gone to a distant star six months ago and only just returned this morning. Though the Doctor will tell you I'm not out of the woods yet."

She pulled back, resting her chin in her hand and her elbow on the back of the couch. A leg was bent and she was twisted informally to the side to see him.

"So what's my punishment," he asked wryly.

The Captain gave him a sad smile. "Actually, you're case is a bit more complicated," she replied. "There was the matter of the assault."

He stared at her, his expression blanked to anguish. "What assault?"

She hesitated too long and he stood up, running his hand over his hair. He glanced down to see no strands in his palm. "Who did I assault?"

She jumped up. "Oh, no, Chakotay, no. Not you. The assault _on_ you. By the women."

Chakotay closed his eyes, sucking in his lips. He touched his fingertips to his tattoo, tracing the lines from memory. "It's not their fault," he said.

"Chakotay, listen to me."

Kathryn gestured for him to take his seat. She took hers beside him, both feet fully planted. "I've gone over this with Tuvok, the Doctor and I personally spoke with an eyewitness."

"Oh, God," he hissed.

"I have decided under strong recommendations from the three that this matter be kept out of the official records."

"You would do that?"

"I feel I must, though it is terribly unfair to you—"

"It's not about me, Kathryn. These women were wronged! It wasn't me, but it was my body." He bolted upright and walked away from her. "I always wanted children, but like this?" He inhaled deeply and turned to face her. "Samantha is naming my son Dukat. Dukat!"

"A Cardassian name," Kathryn whispered.

He nodded, a brief glistening in his eyes vanished. "Of all the names she could have chosen…." Chakotay shook his head. "If I spent six lifetimes, I could never make amends to these women and to my children?"

"Don't press charges," she said simply.

He looked horrified. "No, I never intended to! _I_ should be punished."

The Captain blew out some air. "You said it already, Chakotay. It wasn't you. I need your help to put our crew back together again."

He looked up at her, after staring at his shoes for a long while. "How?"

Janeway explained about their latest position after being flung by the fireflies. Another week would put them within transporter range of a class M planet. "It's teeming with flora and fauna," she said. "I want you to lead a mixed, multi-disciplinary team. We are going to need more plants to grow our own food if we are going to make it back as a generational ship."

"What do you mean 'mixed'?"

"Starfleet loyalists, Maquis and some of the women—can you work with them?"

"I will try, Kathryn. I give you my word."

"We also need to discuss my plan for departmental cross training," she said. "We need to cultivate our leaders, especially among the junior officers."

"What are you saying?"

"I can tell you now what I'm not saying! I'm not saying we won't make it home soon. This is a precaution. I was on the bridge when the fireflies flung us 15,000 light years further from home. Lt. Ayala froze."

"Kobiyashi Maru."

"Something like that," she replied. "I also want this cross training done for morale. I want the crewman down below to be able to integrate more readily with the rest of the crew."

"Like your best pal Harren?"

She gave him a weak smile. "I see news travels fast."

"It's a small ship," he said with a shrug and a chuckle.

"But yes, I saw him in action. Harren can lead."

"If he wants to."

"Then we'll have to make him want it."

"The same goes for Jarvin and Gennaro?"

"Oh, yes! Oh, yes. But we have to be ready for the hiccups we'll have on the way."

"Thank you," he replied softly.

"For what?"

"For giving me another chance. That other man—my Mr. Hyde—he wouldn't have given you the same opportunity."

"That's why I fired him," she said with a soft laugh.

Chakotay smiled amiably. "Do you think Seven will ever forgive me and take me back?"

Janeway felt a cold hand grip her heart. Her face went ashen and time seemed to stop. What was she supposed to say to him? His double take of her expression brought her poise back from oblivion. "If I knew what Seven of Nine would do, then I'd be the Borg Queen, wouldn't I?"

She patted him on the back, realizing he wanted to drag out the discussion. "I have another meeting starting in a few minutes, Chakotay," she said, escorting him to the exit. "I'll see you later.

=/\=

Captain Janeway glanced at the chronometer, her eyes barely registering the time. The replicator began its siren song of terrible Delta Quadrant coffee. What she wanted, what she craved was a cup of joe from the corner café in Clear Creek Township, just south of Bloomington, Indiana.

Suddenly, she felt a strong need to see her mother, Gretchen. The woman had never allowed Kathryn to take the easy way. Good thing, Janeway thought morosely. Looks like the road home is going to be long and bumpy, especially with a clashing crew.

She bit down hard on her molars. Janeway chided herself for absorbing the negative vibes. It was unproductive. "We'll get home," she whispered, patting a bulkhead as she zipped by. "Maybe not tomorrow. But soon. Very, very soon."

Janeway's dismal loop, as she called the circular thoughts that she engaged in during her saddest moments had almost run their course. Maybe a Borg kiss could alleviate the tension, she thought with a tight smile. The very thought of a Borg kiss made Janeway smile and she knew it was a silly grin because her face hurt. But the thought of sharing it with Seven did that. She was propelled forward to a near skip to the VIP quarters by the very ideas she entertained.

Janeway stepped into the quarters, as if she lived there. She was a little nervous to do so, but was relieved to see Seven sitting on a couch with a padd in hand. The beauty looked up and smiled faintly. To most people, the subtle degree of change between her polite indifference and her joy was, for Kathryn, like the difference between a flashlight and the sun.

"Hello, darling," she said.

Seven met Kathryn halfway to the living area. She opened her arms and Kathryn fell into them. Their lips met in a confident and practiced joining. "I missed you," Kathryn said against the woman's lips.

Seven rubbed the woman's back in large circles. "You remain amorous," she accused with a hint of amusement.

Kathryn stared into the blue eyes while her own hand slipped down between them. Even over her biosuit, she could feel the heat and the rising tide of moisture between the tall woman's legs as she rubbed the seam. "I'm not the only one," she said with a deep, sonorous laugh.

Seven's hips completed one slow, circular grind after another. "We cannot," Seven replied, even as she closed her eyes when two soft lips began to nibble her jaw.

"I know," she murmured. "Dani will be here any second."

That sobering thought made Janeway drop her hand. But she remained pressed against the woman, granting her lover a kiss immersed in liquid desire. Their tongues twined together, circling in a mutual anointing that made intimate promises they couldn't keep just yet.

Without warning, the cabin door slid open, followed closely by a prepubescent gasp. Dani stood rooted to a spot just inside the door, her wide eyes shifting between both parents. "What were you doing?"

Janeway cleared her throat and looked back at Seven, who merely raised an eyebrow at her lover. "We were saying hello," Janeway said. She pulled down her tunic and faced both of them. "Would you like anything to drink?"

Janeway noticed that Dani seemed dazed. "Dani, would you like a refreshment?"

Dani furrowed her brow, still staring at the spot where the two were entangled. "What were your tongues doing?"

Janeway didn't really want to have this discussion. Not now. Not ever. Then Janeway heard the echoes of the Doctor's admonition that all of the children, particularly the younger ones would be arriving at puberty sooner rather than later. The thought terrified Janeway much more than any Borg Queen or Krenim timeship. So she brutally suppressed the prognosis. "Dani? Drink?"

Dani shook her head once, her strawberry locks dancing on her shoulders. "Um, no thanks. Are you going to answer my question?"

"No," Janeway snapped as she turned to her lover. "Darling, drink?"

Seven contemplated the question, while Dani walked over to Cappie. "But why not?" Dani looked up into her mother's face, tipped her head to one side.

Janeway still smiled at Seven, as if she hadn't heard a thing.

"I do not require hydration at this time index. But thank you."

Seven sat down at the couch and patted the spot beside her for her daughter. The distraction gave Janeway the graceful exit she needed from the interrogation spotlight.

Dani frowned. "I thought you wanted me to ask you stuff." Dani asked as she nestled her back to her Borg mother. She heard Cappie order tea, Earl Grey. "Can you answer my question?"

When Janeway returned to the living area with a steaming cup of inadequate tea, she sat in the sofa chair at a right angle to her lover and daughter. Dani languidly raised her hand and let it fall playfully into Seven's palm that rested on her thigh.

Janeway nearly tipped the cup over when she finally overheard her lover.

"There are a limitless variety of greetings. This particular one is reserved exclusively for spouses."

Dani narrowed her eyes at Seven of Nine. If Dani said anything about knowing they were not legally married, unlike her original parents from the previous timeline, then Captain Janeway would begin to probe about the other differences. Not good. So not good.

Dani could tell that her Borg mother knew she'd just played a checkmate and was extremely smug, which irritated the girl. She crossed her arms and sat back, taking in the seating arrangements and the odd time of day for them to meet together.

Dani frowned to see Cappie sitting so far away, and she sighed. She knew she was facing Captain Janeway and not her mother, a disconcerting distinction, especially today when she felt tired. Dani yawned helplessly and rubbed an eye. "You're not going to make me take a nap, are you?"

Janeway shook her head as she crossed a leg. "No, that's not what I had in mind," she replied. She rested her chin on a thumb pad and stared at her daughter, wondering how to begin.

Dani grimaced as she sat forward to look at her Borg mother. "What's the matter?"

Seven merely brushed a few stray strands behind her daughter's ear. "'The matter' will be revealed, Eridani."

The girl sighed.

"Dani," Janeway finally said, "We want to talk about yesterday and your interaction with Lt. Kim."

Dani's face darkened and she sat back, cuddling closer to her mother. "I don't want to talk about _him_," she hissed.

"I'm sorry, honey, but we have to," Janeway said. "I want to hear from you what happened."

Dani's eyes narrowed, but she nodded once. It took her a few minutes to retell the incident, completely devoid of emotions. "Can I go now?"

"No," Janeway said. "We aren't done yet. Now I want you to tell me why you decided to take matters into your own hands."

Dani's wide eyes skittered to Seven, who just squeezed the girl's thigh encouragingly and nodded her encouragement to continue. She was going to have to lie to get out of this one. She'd never been very good at falsehoods. Besides, no matter what she said, she always got in trouble. _It isn't fair_, she thought. _Why couldn't Naomi have this thing in her head instead? _

Dani swallowed hard before beginning. "Celes told me—"

"That's Crewman Tal, to you, Dani," Janeway said a little too sharply.

Dani felt a surge of something she could never identify. Her stomach fluttered and all she wanted to do was hide under the bed. She licked her lips and her leg started to shake. "She's-she's my friend," she replied softly.

Janeway offered a small smile. "I understand that, but when you are referring to her as your teacher she's Crewman Tal. If you were to talk about what she liked to do for fun while we're at the dinner table, then you may call her Celes."

Dani tipped her head. "Why?"

Janeway inhaled sharply. "Many reasons," she said curtly. "Respect for her. I don't want any confusion about her role with you. And finally, because I ask it."

Dani scratched the side of her nose and focused on a spot just over Janeway's head. "Crewman Tal told me to run and not stop. I heard Lt. Kim firing a phaser and then I heard his footsteps behind me."

She realized she'd just repeated a part of the story and her mother continued to stare, her eyebrows craggy. _That's never a good sign_, Dani thought.

"What were you thinking, Dani?" she finally asked.

"That he was going to hurt me," she whispered. "Like he'd hurt Crewman Tal already."

"Go on," Janeway said.

Dani looked over at her Borg mother for help, receiving only a nod of encouragement. _This is hard_, she decided. "He was mean…" Dani said in a broken voice.

Janeway's façade cracked just a nanometer. "I know, darling. I know you were scared and Lt. Kim was acting irrational. But I need for you to tell me why you put yourself in danger."

Dani furrowed her brows. "I didn't put myself in danger," she said. "Lt. Kim did when he tried to take me from Crewman Tal."

Cappie was staring holes into her. Dani wondered what the magic words were to get out from under the microscope. She fisted her hand loosely and looked at her fingernails, tearing one of them with her teeth.

"Dani," Janeway said softly. "I'm specifically asking about why you launched yourself onto Lt. Kim."

Dani's eyes moistened and turned red, but no tears fell. "What was I supposed to do?" she cried, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Let him shove me in an escape pod? 'Cause that's what he was going to do, you know."

Janeway's face softened further. She leaned forward, supporting her weight on her elbows. She lightly tickled Dani's knee with her fingertips. "Yesterday was very difficult for all of us, Dani," she said. "But I need for you to understand something."

"What?" she asked, wiping her nose with her shoulder. Seven offered her a tissue, which she promptly wadded up in a hand.

"I know it's hard, sweetheart," Janeway replied softly. "Really, I do. But the next time, I want you to trust me, trust Mom and trust the adults."

Dani's brow creased into deep furrows. "Trust you to do what? You weren't there."

"I know we weren't there, but that doesn't mean we wouldn't have helped you at some point. You see," Janeway edged up to the end of the chair. "You added to the danger."

Dani wanted to scream. She would never have done it except that stupid green text. She believed she was in _more_ danger if she didn't do something. It was only then that Dani realized she believed the things the Borg implant in her head told her.

Janeway mistook Dani's morphing expressions for fear and dread. "I wanted you to know that Lt. Kim and many other crewmembers were very ill—but they've all been treated by the Doctor. They're better now. I wanted you to know that."

"Mom told me," Dani mumbled.

"Good," she replied, smiling gratefully at Seven. "In his illness, he could have fired on you, Dani. I really need for you to understand that under no circumstances are you to take matters into your own hands—into your own _little _hands."

Dani's throat garbled something Janeway didn't quite understand and the girl's face darkened again. She batted at the tears in her eyes. "I'll try."

Janeway's voice hardened again. "You'll do more than try. Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Dani squeaked.

Janeway sat back in her chair. "Do you have any questions for us?"

Dani shook her head. "No," she whispered needlessly. "Can I go now?"

Seven consulted her internal chronometer. "You are still in session on Holodeck One, Eridani," she replied. "You may rejoin your classmates."

Before Seven was finished speaking, Dani had dashed to the door, exiting while Seven yelled a farewell.

Janeway bolted to her feet, covering her mouth with a hand. "Well, that went badly," she replied. "Our dynamic feels so forced sometimes. This is not the way it was planetside."

Seven crossed her leg and watched her lover. "You were not captain there."

Janeway continued to stare at the exit, her fingers rubbing against each other while she held her middle with the other arm. "It's like I'm missing a piece of information."

Seven took Janeway's hand and tugged the reluctant woman down on her lap. The Captain was stiff in her arms, but she continued to hold her. Seven let a palm rub the woman's thigh. "I believe it is the 'agony of maturation,'" Seven replied.

"Growing pains?" Janeway said. But she was still focused on the closed door across the room. "For me or her?"

Seven took Janeway's arms and set them both on each of her own shoulders. With a hooked finger under the strong chin, Seven twisted Janeway's head toward her. Seven kissed her softly. It was a light grazing, more for comfort. "For the two," she said.

"What am I doing wrong?" Janeway asked.

Seven considered the question, as her hand rubbed the woman's thigh lovingly. "It is not solely your issue, Kathryn."

"What do you mean? I'm the only one who makes her cry."

"Perhaps I should take a more active role in providing disciplinary action. The child-rearing data I consulted suggested that I should intermittently play the role of the miscreant law enforcement officer."

Janeway repeated Seven's last phrase to herself. She chuckled when realization dawned. "Do you really think I'm the 'bad cop' too often?" Janeway considered the last few interactions. "Perhaps you're right," she said absent-mindedly.

"Raising a child is a shared burden," Seven replied. "I gladly accept it for Dani and for…." Her hand caressed the little bump of flesh beginning to form in Janeway's lower abdomen.

Janeway covered Seven's hand, as she slowly circled the flesh. "I wish I could stay like this forever," she murmured.

"You may," Seven whispered as she nuzzled the woman's ear. At the Captain's chuckle, Seven clarified. "For approximately sixty-seven minutes more, or until you conclude your meridian break."

"Yes, I do get lunch, don't I?" Janeway's voice was husky now.

After several more long minutes, Seven hoisted Janeway up, much to the Captain's surprise. "I think you like doing that."

"That is correct," she said. "I also prefer another activity—"

"Oh?" Janeway replied saucily.

"This particular activity is medically endorsed for its stress relieving benefits."

"We're talking about the same thing, right?" Janeway whispered into the woman's neck.

"Of course, I speak of copulation."

"Oh, Seven," she murmured. "That word is so…_abrasive_."

Seven whipped Janeway to her feet, the other woman unsteady for a moment.

"Perhaps you would prefer a more descriptive verb."

A corner of Janeway's mouth was quirked as she studied Seven. "What particular verb would that be?"

Seven's fingertips danced up Kathryn's sleeve, across her shoulders and down to the zipper of the tunic that separated their already strummed bodies. Seven opened the Captain's jacket and slipped her hands into the sleeves. As she slowly pushed the uniform from her shoulders, Seven leaned in. She nipped Kathryn's jaw before swirling her tongue in the woman's ear. "Fuck," Seven whispered. "Do you prefer that word?"

"Oh, yes," Janeway said, throwing her head back to moan. "Oh, God, yes."

Seven's mouth adored the woman's neck and lips while her hands lifted her sweater, tossing it carelessly to a corner, along with her bra. Seven's hand slipped down inside Kathryn's pants and panties to find a seeping cleft. "Oh, Kathryn," Seven whispered against her lips.

"Hurry, darling," she whispered.

Seven ripped off the woman's pants, tearing them along the seam with her Borg appendage. The gray Starfleet panties fell to the deck in tatters, leaving Kathryn naked and trembling with desire.

Kathryn lightly smacked Seven's buttock, as she lifted her head for additional oral attention. "You, too. I need you naked, too."

In one practiced, fluid motion, Seven shredded her own biosuit.

Kathryn gasped. "You weren't wearing panties!"

Seven practically waltzed Kathryn toward the bed. "It was more efficient," she replied. Then she gently dropped Kathryn to the mattress.

Seven climbed on top of Kathryn, blistering her mouth with a fiery kiss. Seven made so many demands—to ensconce herself between the woman's legs, to anchor her long form with the smaller woman's, to melt their dripping centers together. And Kathryn yielded it all, every bit of herself.

It was as if the previous night they had never kissed or licked or sucked at all. Like they hadn't climaxed four times together. This urgency was a new, but Seven pushed it out of her awareness, or rather her increasing state of arousal pushed it out.

Everything at this time index was reduced to sensations. Kathryn's nipples glossed Seven's. Two firm legs clamped around Seven's middle. Center points so bulging they slid and slipped against each other in animalistic thrusts and undulations. Scorching tongues furiously collided and then skimmed in retreat before crashing one against the other in a frenzy of rapacious necessity.

She tried to stave off her tide, but Seven failed at last. Wave after pleasurable wave crashed, covering her with bone-drenching ecstasy. Vaguely she heard her lover cry out, felt her pulsate beneath her.

Seven crumpled over the woman, weak and spent.

"Oh, Seven," Kathryn said in a hoarse voice. She rubbed the woman's back in small circles and let her feet slip down to tangle with Seven's thighs.

Seven finally rose to her elbows and kissed the woman with bruised lips. "You are beautiful," she whispered. "And mine."


	8. Spoils of Victory

A/N: THIS is my favorite chapter. I know it's a little long, but I hope you enjoy reading it as I much as I've enjoyed writing it. Thanks to Ifuritka for asking an interesting question about Seven and Harry. I never even thought to explore that.

This chapter is also dedicated to TracesofBeing who thinks I have a fixation about getting Janeway punched. That is so not true. Wink.

**Quantum of Chaos**

**Chapter 8: Spoils of Victory**

Seven of Nine and Captain Janeway each stepped out of their respective quarters, nodding graciously and greeting each other with an aloof good afternoon. They strode side by side to the turbo lift in complete silence. None of the other crewmembers passing them in the corridor were remotely aware of the unquenchable passion they had shared only moments ago during their meal break.

When the turbolift door slid open, Seven gestured for the Captain to precede her.

After murmured thanks, Janeway entered. She nodded to the others already traveling and turned. With nearly a wink, Janeway wordlessly said goodbye to her lover as she barked: "Bridge!"

Seven slipped her hands behind her back, gripping one wrist while she waited for her ride to Astrometrics. The turbolift chimed and the door slid open. The Borg woman raised her eyes to see a pale Lt. Harry Kim. He backed up into the lift when their eyes met.

"Seven!"

She appraised him for a moment and entered. "Deck 8," Seven said, while she continued to look at him.

"I thought you'd be starting your lunch shift," he replied weakly.

"Of what interest is my midday break?"

"Well, I—uh—I, uh—"

Seven glanced at the lift controls, noting the singular terminus. "What brings you to Deck 8?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Uh…" He cleared his throat and deepened his voice. "I was going to see Jenny and Megan. They work in Astrometrics."

"That explains your destination but it does not adequately clarify your interests in my schedule."

While the man stuttered, Seven glanced down at his legs. Janeway had spoken of his injuries, particular the compound fractures in his tibia and femur.

"You appear to have convalesced adequately."

He glanced down, running the palm of a hand along his pants. "Yes—I mean, no. I'm still in sickbay, pending release."

Seven resumed her open perusal of him and then she startled him. "Computer, stop lift."

A small flutter in his stomach told him that the lift was motionless. "Why'd you do that?"

Seven dropped her hands to her side. "You have not been released from sickbay, yet you are headed to Astrometrics. Why?"

"Well, as I said, Jenny and Megan work there—"

"Of this I am already aware as I am the department head in charge. Yet—"

"We're dating!" Harry grimaced, as if he'd injured himself. "What I mean is, we are serious, Jenny, Megan and I."

Seven tipped her head to one side. "You copulate?"

He felt a burn on his face, but refused to look away. "Yes," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"The three of you together?"

Seven, of course, had heard of this type of sexual activity, but it had never drawn her attention. Seven could not even bear the thought of sharing Kathryn with _any _collective, regardless of how small.

"Well, not simultaneously," he said.

She considered him for a moment, finally abandoning any further questions along those lines as irrelevant. "Why would you wait until my break for such a visit?"

"Because," he said. "I haven't—I mean, I want to talk to you about—I wanted to apologize to you and Eridani about…."

"About your physical abuse of my subunit?"

He frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Captain Janeway has mentioned your contrition," she replied.

Harry sighed heavily. His shoulders sagged.

"However, contrition is irrelevant," she stated.

Harry Kim was like a marionette then, instantly taut and jerky. "What can I do to make up for it?"

Seven raised her Borg appendage. It was no longer the chain mail covered facsimile of a human hand. It had morphed into needle-nose pliers with small, serrated teeth. "I believe the ancient Earth saying of 'tooth for a tooth' would be apropos. Do you not agree?"

"No!" he shrieked.

A chime interrupted them.

"_Delaney to Kim."_

"Megan!" he shouted looking up, as if he would see the apparition of his desire.

"This is Jenny, Harry." Disappointment squeezed the edges of the voice.

"Jenny! Thank God!" he shouted, watching Seven lower her hand in resignation.

"Where are you? We've been waiting. Seven went to lunch early and—"

"Jenny," he said. "I'll be there momentarily. I really appreciate you checking up on me. Especially now."

"Why now?"

"Computer, resume!" he garbled. "I'll explain later. Kim out."

Seven turned toward the door lift and clasped her hands behind her back.

Kim studied her profile for a moment. "You weren't really going to remove a tooth, were you?"

She glanced at him, an eyebrow impertinently arched. "I believe the proper term is 'defang,' Mr. Kim," she said. Then Seven looked forward. "It is unfortunate we were interrupted. There will be another opportunity."

The lift chimed and opened. Lt. Kim edged around the tall woman and practically sprinted down the corridor.

Seven allowed herself a microscopic smirk, patting her fist into the palm of her hand behind her back. She was pleased to keep the promise she made to Kathryn.

=/\=

Several days later, Captain Janeway entered the VIP quarters, smiling to find her lover Seven of Nine and their daughter seated at a small table eating breakfast. "Good morning," she said.

She leaned over, pecking Seven's lips with her own. She pulled back to smile adoringly at her lover. Impulsively she offered another kiss.

Janeway slipped by Seven, running a finger surreptitious along the woman's shoulders as she made her way toward their daughter. She patted Dani's shoulder and leaned over, but as her lips hovered close to Dani's, the girl pulled back.

Janeway blinked at the grimace on the features that were so much like hers and Seven's. "What's the matter?" she asked. Janeway huffed into her palm and sniffed. "Yep, I did brush."

Dani crinkled her nose a little. "It's not that," she replied. "I just—um, I—" Dani closed her eyes, scratching the side of her nose as she did. She opened them and looked between both parents. By this time, Janeway had sat down at spot reserved for her, a steaming plate of deviled bakru and a cup of green tea waiting for her.

"I think I'm too old for that," Dani replied, her eyes darting like neutrinos on a pinhead.

Janeway paused the cup midway to her mouth. "Since when?"

"Since today," she replied. Dani hastily stuffed a spoonful of bakru in her mouth and chewed it with an exaggerated hum.

Janeway took a sip of tea and shared an amused expression with Seven. She set the mug down, took her own fork and began to root around for the right bite. Just as she was about to take a mouthful, Janeway asked, "So is this kiss ban just for me or all of your parents?"

"I was informed of the new greeting protocol this morning," Seven replied.

Janeway gave a silent nod. She was more relieved than anything. She didn't mind being the least popular parent sometimes, but not all the time. The trend was not promising. "So is there any particular reason for the change?"

"No," Dani said curtly.

Seven lifted a brow. "You stated this morning that you were saving all of your kisses for someone."

Dani colored so furiously, her freckles disappeared for an instant.

Janeway covered her mouth under the guise of cleaning it with a napkin before she spoke. "Someone I know?"

Dani flopped her head into her palm and closed her eyes. "Mom," Dani hissed. It was a three-letter summation that was both warning and plea.

"Ah," Seven replied. "I was not informed of the confidential nature of our discussion."

"Why can't you tell me?" Janeway asked, leaning forward a little.

"Because!" Dani squeaked.

Janeway looked inquiringly at Seven.

"Unfortunately, I am not aware of the recipient of Eridani's oral affections."

Dani grimaced again and covered her face with her napkin. "Mom," she murmured through the white cloth. "That's gross."

"What is gross?"

"Calling it 'oral affections'!"

"What would you prefer I—"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

After a few minutes of silence, Dani lowered a small corner of the napkin to peak at her parents. Cappie's face was red and her lips sucked into her mouth. Seven had the smallest curls at the corner of her mouth; her eyebrow and Borg eyepiece loomed high. Dani slammed her napkin down. "I'm going to school now," Dani hissed as she mercilessly shoved her chair back. It screeched a few centimeters along the deck and then fell back.

Dani reached for a book, but it fell. After she picked it up, Cappie caught her arm. "We're sorry, darling," she said. "It's just—We're sorry, Dani. Please don't leave angry with us."

Dani kept looking forlornly at the door.

"So what can we give you?" Janeway asked, her hand rubbing her daughter's forearm.

"You can kiss my cheek," Dani informed.

Janeway rose halfway from her chair and kissed the defining ridge of her cheekbone. "Have a good day, sweetheart," she said.

Dani nodded once and took one step toward the door.

"What of me?" Seven asked.

Dani sighed and dashed to her Borg mother, who proffered her cheek dutifully. Dani pecked it, barely touching her skin. "Bye," she whispered.

When the door had safely slid closed, Janeway burst out in a fit of laughter. Seven, in characteristic Borg stoicism, kept her amusement merely as a delicate patina around her eyes and mouth.

"What was that all about?" Janeway finally asked through a few hiccups.

"I do not know," she replied. "Perhaps her infatuation with Mr. Paris is blossoming."

Janeway tisked her teeth. "Oh, I hope not," she wheezed through another round of chuckles.

"Indeed," Seven replied. "B'Elanna Torres would be a woman most scorned."

Janeway's subsiding laughs gathered more steam from Seven's remark. "Oh, darling," she replied. "I wish we could have more times like these." She patted her lover's arm.

Seven covered Kathryn's after leaning down to kiss the plump flesh of the woman's thumb.

"You know," Kathryn replied, taking another bite of the bakru. "This could be scary."

Seven's face blanked and she lifted her eyes to her lover. "Explain."

"She's eight, Seven. I was figuring we wouldn't have to deal with crushes until—oh, I'm thinking—twelve."

"Was that the year of your first crush?"

Janeway's lips skewed. Seven arrested every one of her own movements to record with her perfect memory Kathryn's glorious crooked grin.

"You really don't want to know about it," she said offhandedly.

"That is incorrect," Seven stated allowing the moment to pass. "I aspire to know the sum of your experiences."

Janeway nearly choked on her tea. She sputtered into a napkin before finally pounding her own chest. "I hope—" Kathryn cleared her throat. "I hope you were teasing, Seven."

"If I was not?"

"Then I hope you have more aspirations because I'm not that interesting."

Seven stacked Dani's plate on hers and rose from the table. She leaned over, ensnaring Kathryn face between two hands and capturing her mouth with her own. Seven withdrew with a playful nip to her lover's lips. She lifted the used dishes and returned them to the recycling station.

A little breathless, Janeway had a momentary lapse of thought. Her lips were parted and her throat gurgled but words seemed to blur and float at the edges of her awareness.

Seven glanced lightheartedly over her shoulder. Her lips were teased into a small curl at the havoc she had wrought.

Janeway blinked several times before finally coming to herself. "That was quite a comeback," she said in a husky voice. "Are you going to let me get the last word?" Janeway asked with more amusement.

With her task complete, Seven turned. "No," she said in all seriousness. Then she walked over to the table and held out her hand.

Kathryn threw herself back in her chair, crossing her arms. "That's it? No?"

"Yes," Seven replied evenly. "It is time for Alpha Shift to commence and our senior staff meeting."

Janeway took one last drink, before handing her lover the cup and plate. "Thank you, Seven. It was delicious." The Captain admired the way Seven swayed toward the recycling station. It was catlike and erotic.

Janeway's hand rested in her palm when Seven returned again to the table. The Captain looked up at the thin, Nordic face and smiled, taking the woman's hand. Seven swung their clasped hands gently, her eyes sparkling with contentment.

"You are adorable," Janeway said.

"Thank you," Seven said. "Shall we?"

Janeway sighed, stood and kissed her lover's knuckles before releasing them. She gestured with a chin. "Out there, we are Captain Janeway and a crewmember."

Seven raised a brow, but her only response was to tug the reluctant Captain to the exit of the quarters.

Janeway pulled back just inside, allowing the door to hiss closed again. She swung Seven into her arms, pulling her tightly against her body. "You've had two opportunities to remind me about the difficulties of our relationship and yet you haven't."

Seven rubbed Janeway's back in small circles. The temptation to turn in her monthly report late presented itself. Another hour, even another minute, with Kathryn would be sheer bliss. But Seven would not steal what her lover should give openly.

"Would it change you?" Seven inquired.

"I'm not the one that has to change," she said. Janeway raised her arms, palms up. "This—all of this—does. It has to normalize."

_Normalize_, Seven thought to herself. She wanted to reply that normal was a sine wave. Up, down, up and down and all repeated for a lifetime. Seven wasn't sure what clue Janeway was waiting for that would make the news of their relationship easier to digest, but she'd laid down the condition: normal. She knew Kathryn would not be rushed. So Seven graciously nodded. "I understand," she replied.

Janeway studied her for a moment, twin lines etched between her brows. "Are we okay—you and I?"

Seven leaned down and pecked her lover's lips. "Yes."

=/\=

They walked in silence to the turbolift. When the door closed with them inside, Janeway turned to Seven. "It's Naomi!"

"What is Naomi?"

"Dani's crush."

"No, Kathryn."

"But they bicker constantly—Naomi likes to come over and—"

"Your conclusion is false because your data is flawed," Seven replied. "You presume an amorous intent."

"Isn't it? It's classic."

"Eridani quarrels with Naomi due to jealousy."

"Jealousy?"

"My friendship with Naomi is a constant source of irritation for Eridani. Our daughter is jealous."

"Is that normal?"

Seven nearly inquired about Kathryn's standards for normal, hoping it would offer clues about their relationship. In a nanosecond it took her to calculate the ramifications, Seven decided it would be useless data. Their child's infatuation could not reasonably be compared to their relationship. "I do not know what normal is, Kathryn. I was assimilated at six."

Janeway looked stricken. "I'm sorry, Seven." Her hand was midway to the small of Seven's back when the turbolift doors opened.

Commander Chakotay smiled, as he looked between both women. "Good morning, Captain," he said. "Seven, good to see you."

Janeway's hand jerked out of sight, but the movement brought Chakotay's eyes down during their greetings. He looked back up, offering a million-watt smile. "Can I have a _lift_?"

He waggled his eyebrows and the Captain chuckled. "Commander," Janeway replied with all due seriousness. "You may use your humor as a weapon but we are unphased."

Chakotay nodded and ordered the computer to resume turbolift. He turned to stare at Seven. "What about you? Are you going to hit me with your best pun?"

She arched a brow and looked forward. "Puns are irrelevant."

"Oh, c'mon," he said. One dark-skinned finger gently poked Seven's middle and she jerked to one side only a fraction of a millimeter before grabbing the offending appendage. "How about if I make a pun about the Borg?"

"Suppress the urge," she replied evenly as she tossed his hand away from her.

Chakotay gave a confused look, but turned to face forward. "Captain," he said. "Seven wants us to play by the book."

"Careful, Commander. I think Seven is about the throw the book at you."

Seven glanced quickly at her lover, flicking a brow at her in dismay before returning to face front.

"I have the perfect prescription, Seven," he said.

"Prescription for what?" Seven continued to stare at the lift door.

"You're surliness," he replied.

"I am not surly."

"The prescription is dinner with me. What do you think?"

The turbolift chimed and the door slid open. "It is ill advised, Commander," she said, narrowing her eyes at her ex-lover. "For you to practice medicine without a license."

Then without a sideways glance at her lover, Seven stepped out and advanced on the conference room.

Janeway felt her blood drain to her feet when Chakotay had asked her lover on a date. Seven's icy response was well-contained fury. Chakotay should know it, she thought. The Captain felt her face muscles aching from the grimace and then Chakotay looked back at her. She allowed the tension to slip down to her hands that she fisted and unfisted, but offered her First Officer a neutral expression.

"Wow," he said. "Did you hear that?"

Janeway lowered her head and stepped out. "Don't involve me, Commander," she said over her shoulder.

=/\=

Captain Janeway swallowed the fear and frustration she felt as she stepped into the conference room. It had been much easier to address a full crew convocation in the hangar bay a day before. This was the senior staff's first meeting since the mutiny. This smaller group knew her and she knew them. She had to be sharp.

She strode confidently to her place at the head of the table, laying a padd in front. "Good morning," Janeway said, giving each face a meaningful nod. "It's good to see everyone."

There were murmurs of ascent and for the most part, her senior officers seemed prepared. When her eyes met Lt. Harry Kim, who was seated opposite Seven of Nine, he looked pale. "Lt. Kim, are you all right?"

His head jerked back to the Captain. "Oh, yes. I'm fine, Captain. Never better."

She lifted her brows in wonder but began what she hoped would be considered a diplomatic overture. "We've been through a great deal as a crew in these past seven years," Janeway said. "I am expectantly hopefully that the last six months, especially the last week, are all behind us. Just as I said when we first came together as a crew—we need each other—Starfleet and Maquis. Some of us were under outside influences and acted out in ways they would not have otherwise. As Captain, I have seen fit to overlook these infractions for obvious reasons."

Each of the faces staring back at her was sober. Some were optimistic and it offered her some confidence. "We are still one crew and our goal is still to get home as fast as we can," Janeway said. "Is that understood?"

"Aye, Captain" was muttered around the room, some together and some a fraction of a second off beat.

"If you have any questions or concerns, now is the time to address them."

Captain Janeway favored each senior staff member around the table. Every one of them met her azure gaze with unswerving loyalty. She nodded once, accepting their support. "We have a lot of work to do, so let's get started."

Captain Janeway reviewed a report on a class M planet that Voyager was approaching. "This planet is just this side of Borg space."

"But we were nearly through all of it when…." The comment died on Lt. Kim's lips. They were nearly out of Borg space when the fireflies flung them away from their destination, toward the outer edge of the Delta Quadrant. Now the entire expanse of Borg space stood between them and home.

"Let's not dwell on that," Janeway said lightly. "Let's focus on this planet. Unfortunately, sensors are picking up some interference and transporters will be inoperable. But we'll be within shuttle range in three. And the best part is we'll be clear of the…." Janeway looked to the Chief Medical Officer as a nod for naming it. "….new Class X nebula."

There were murmurs of relief from most of them. "That's too bad," Lt. Tom Paris said.

Janeway turned to look at him. He was still tinged green, but it was the lightest of hues. She was happy to see him returning to his old, irascible self.

"Mr. Paris?"

"I, for one, will _miss_ the nebula."

Janeway frowned, raising a hand to stop the man. _He was definitely feeling like himself again_, she thought. _Which was good. But not now._

His wife and Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres pounded his quads with her knuckle.

"Owww! That hurt!"

"Good," she hissed.

"Moving on," Janeway replied over the disturbance. "Commander Chakotay is going to lead a large away team to the planet's surface. If sensors are correct, this planet is teeming with flora and fauna. We are going to need every bit of it to make it back to earth and welcome our newest crewmembers in a few months. Commander, want to take us through it?"

The Captain felt it was paramount that she show confidence in the First Officer, especially now. She believed it would advance their ability to re-unify as a crew.

Commander Chakotay nodded graciously. The only thing that gave away his angst was a hard swallow as he faced his crewmates and subordinates. He began by outlining his objectives that a smaller away team would lead to collect water, food and animal samples. "If plants are found to be edible or medicinal, the away team would be expanded. I don't want to leave any stone unturned," he said.

"Commander? How do you propose to conduct the foreign _extraction_?" Seven turned to look at Lt. Kim just as she spoke the last word.

He paled further and fumbled with his padd before Seven looked away to the First Officer. Chakotay had answered with a brief outline of the usual protocols, though he considered the issue to be routine this long into their Delta Quadrant journey.

Chakotay then read a list of crewmembers selected and it included Seven of Nine. She favored Captain Janeway with a brief but significant expression. It was a look no one picked up because none was aware of Seven's nuances like Janeway.

When Chakotay had concluded, Janeway glanced at her padd. "Next, I want to discuss our nursery requirements."

"Captain," Harry managed to say through a dry throat. "Is there something wrong with airponics?" As the Operations Chiefs, Lt. Kim had direct oversight of Airponics.

Janeway smiled crookedly. "No, Mr. Kim," she said. "By nursery I mean for children, not plants."

Soft chuckles rippled around the room. It was good to see the senior staff working and laughing together, she thought.

"Sorry," he replied. His eye caught Seven of Nine's curious look and he turned his chair to face the Captain.

"This is what I want to see happen," she said. Janeway explained her plan to transform Cargo Bay Two into multiple rooms, all for rearing children. "We'll relocate airponics in favor of a nursery, arboretum, classroom and general play area."

"Wow," B'Elanna said. "That sounds fantastic."

Janeway patted Mr. Chakotay's arm. "We've been working hard to try to accommodate everyone."

Her First Officer inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"I've sent the full plan to every crewmember," she replied. "I want everyone to have a part, if they wish it, in planning for this. Make no mistake, it will affect every one of us for the foreseeable future." Janeway shifted in her chair. "Which brings me to personnel changes. I have offered Crewman Tal Celes a newly created position. She has accepted the post of educational director and promotion to Lieutenant."

She read the surprise on some of the faces. Celes was known for bumbling the most basic calculations, but her quick thinking during the last crisis may have highlighted her strength. If this voyage was going to be longer than anticipated, the Captain needed everyone at his or her strongest position.

"What are we going to call the school?" B'Elanna asked.

The Captain smiled. "Voyager Academy."

"Oh, I like that!" she said. "I really do."

There were a few other voices of encouragement, but her lover seemed distracted. Seven was dividing her attention between Chakotay at the other end of the table from Janeway and Lt. Kim. She's mad at me, Janeway thought morosely. Why couldn't I just step in and tell Chakotay about us? Janeway sighed.

After an extensive discussion about morale issues, mitigation procedures and cross-training opportunities, Captain Janeway shut down her padd. "Now I believe that Lt. Kim as an announcement for us." She leaned back in her chair. "Harry?"

He jerked toward her. "Is it my turn already?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," Janeway said indulgently.

The man stood up, pulling down his tunic as he did. "I would like to request the honor of your presence at an engagement party," he said.

"Who's getting married?" Tom asked.

"Me," he said, carefully avoiding Seven's eyes.

"You? You mean you finally chose between the sisters."

"Tom," Janeway said quietly. "Can we allow Mr. Kim to make his own announcement?"

"Oh, sure, Captain," he said. "I was just trying to help."

"Go ahead, Mr. Kim."

"Thank you, Captain. And I really couldn't choose between Megan and Jenny Delaney. So we're all engaged."

B'Elanna jumped up out of her seat and captured Harry in a Klingon embrace, complete with a growl. "Congratulations, Starfleet," she said.

Others offered handshakes. "So is there a date set?" Tom asked.

"No, but the engagement party will be planned just before I leave on the away team mission," he said.

Captain Janeway surprised Lt. Kim with a warm hug. "It's so good to have you back, Harry," she said. "I really missed you. It's also nice to see you growing up."

"Thank you, Captain," he said.

"I'm sure your mother would be so proud."

A touch of sadness shaded his eyes. "She will be."

=/\=

Two days later, Captain Janeway stepped into the Mess Hall, smiling at the first sign in the thaw of crew hostilities. Commander Chakotay was conversing amiably with B'Elanna and Tom by the hors d'œuvres.

Tuvok was speaking with Crewmen Harren and Jarvin. The men from the lower decks appeared to be uncomfortable. She wasn't sure if it was because they'd ventured from their gloomy fold or because they felt menaced by Seven whose incisive precision could slice open any mendacities. Seven eyes met hers across the room and they held it for a fraction of a second before Janeway's attention was interrupted by Mr. Neelix.

"Captain," he said, offering her a bubbling blue liquid in a champagne glass. "For the toast."

"I just got here," she lamented.

Mr. Neelix leaned in. "I think Harry's a little nervous," he replied.

She listened to Neelix offer some plans he had for the festivities later, wanting her to make those announcements. Though she had no intention of extending her party time longer than necessary, it did give her more opportunity to study the room. Lt. Kim was standing with the Delaney sisters and Crewman Tal. She was surprised to see Dani in that circle. Her daughter's hand was inside one of Tal's and her gaze studied her new teacher intently. It was a look Janeway had never seen before; it was earnest, raw and naïve. Janeway shook her head, telling herself she was imagining it.

By this time, Mr. Kim had disengaged and bounced nervously to her. "There you are," he said. "I'd like to, ah…." It was as if he were remembering for the first time he was speaking rather impertinently to the Captain. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" she asked quietly.

"I'm nervous and I want—I'm ready to get this over with."

Janeway smiled at the usually nervous man. It reminded her of his first day on Voyager. "I'm ready, Mr. Kim. The real question is are _you_ ready?"

"It was Emerson who said we are always getting ready to live, but never living," he replied thoughtfully. "Today, I'm changing that for me."

Janeway tipped her head to the side, studying the man who entered Voyager's crew so young, so guileless seven years ago. He'd literally grown into a man before her eyes. "Well, Harry," she said with a whisper of parental pride. "You're a fine man and you'll make a wonderful husband and father."

"Thank you, Captain."

He stepped back over to Jenny and Megan Delaney, with their identically garish hairpieces. Lt. Tal had just said something and the twins had tipped their head back and their brash laughter rang out in hiccupped guffaws.

Janeway took the champagne glass that Neelix offered her with a wink, tapping it with a spoon for attention. "I cannot tell you how magnificent it is to see the crew _mingling_." Her emphasis on the last word left no doubt in anyone's mind to what she referred. She thought it would have taken a lot longer than ten days. _Perhaps I short-changed everyone, _she thought.

"First, my thanks to Mr. Neelix for putting out a fine banquet of the finest our airponics has to offer. Only he has the magic to turn ordinary vegetables and meat substitutes into a epicurean delight." She led the crew in a round of tepid applause. Mr. Neelix looked proud and conspicuously humble.

"We've been through a lot together and not together," she said. Again, the crew understood her double entrendre. "Today, we are here to celebrate a very special occasion. Harry Kim, our very own fresh-from-the-Academy Lieutenant. He's grown before our eyes—"

"Captain," he said, dropping his voice to its lowest register to try to sound more manly. "You are sounding like my mother."

"I am a mother, Lieutenant."

He blushed, and looked around uncomfortably.

"Today, Mr. Kim announces his wedding engagement to not one, but both Delaney sisters." The crowd murmured their surprise. "Best wishes, Harry, Megan and Jenny!" The crew took a long sip of Neelix' own better-than-champagne Champagne. Janeway coughed a bit, its bubbles a little too strong.

She smirked to see Dani saunter over to try to sneak a sip from her Borg mother. Seven pulled the glass away from her daughter, lifting it out of reach. Her daughter's mouth began to move rapidly, no doubt to bring her mother to her viewpoint. But Seven was unpersuaded, much to their daughter's chagrin.

Neelix cleared his throat and Janeway blinked around. "If you drank all your lovely champagne, we need more! I'm not done with the toasts."

Seven met her gaze across the room and it warmed Janeway to the tips of her boots. _Later_, she thought.

Janeway lifted her glass. "To the future Kim household, Megan and Jenny are both expecting his children! So here are to the babies Kim!"

She lifted another glass. "Speaking of babies. B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris are expecting their own child. To their bundle of joy, we toast!" Janeway looked at B'Elanna. "May the child live in honor!"

The Klingon woman tipped her head in kind acknowledgement.

Janeway sipped lightly again. She ended up toasting for three more children and two more future weddings. By the end she was nearly light headed. The Captain hadn't felt this hopeful in nearly a year and she was going to enjoy it.

Later, Janeway ended up watching Lt. Kim face certain defeat in Kal Toh against his archrival Lt. Commander Tuvok. She took a sip of the water she had finally smuggled into her champagne glass. It was too late. The six-week baby inside her womb evidently didn't care for the bubbles and she was making her revulsion known. She jabbed a finger into the corner of her eye, hoping to stem the pain.

She and Chakotay stood side-by-side, occasionally bumping elbows. "Do you think Harry has a chance?" Chakotay whispered.

"Everyone has a chance," Janeway replied back, stroking a temple. "Even a busted chronometer is right at least once a day."

Chakotay laughed when Harry offered the Captain an annoyed look. Despite the throb behind her eye, Janeway managed a chuckled, so much so that she didn't hear Seven of Nine step up behind her.

"Are you all right, Captain?" Chakotay whispered.

Janeway rubbed her stomach. "I think it was Neelix' Goulash Krenim," she lied. "It's come back to haunt me." She felt like vomiting and she knew exactly the reason.

"You better use your replicator rations for breakfast because I heard Neelix boasting that his Goulash Krenim would be traveling forward in time for an encore," Chakotay cautioned.

"Thanks for the warning," Janeway replied.

Kim huffed at the two senior observers. "Do you mind? You're distracting me…well, Commander Chakotay is," he clarified with stumbling words. "Not you, Captain."

Janeway rolled her eyes. "Was Harry always this obsequious?" she whispered to Chakotay.

"Yep, everyone's back to normal," he replied in kind.

"I didn't expect it to happen this soon," she said with an unabashed smile. "But I think we are finally normalizing."

"Whatever _that _is, right, Captain?"

She laughed at his multi-layered joke. "Exactly." Captain Janeway took a small step back, bumping into Seven. "Oh, Seven, I'm sorry."

Seven's hand lingered on the small of the Captain's back, earning a stern look from the woman. Seven dropped it casually, as if she had completed her task of steadying her Commanding Officer. "I am sorry to disturb you, Captain…."

Janeway gave her an odd look. "You aren't disturbing me," she replied, her voice husky.

"However, it is nearly time for Eridani's regeneration cycle."

"Would you like some help?" Janeway's crooked smile tried to assert itself, but she quickly tamped it down. She was keenly aware of the scrutiny of her First Officer.

"No," Seven said, looking everywhere but to the person with whom she spoke. "As I stated, I do not wish to interfere with your official duties. Good evening."

"I can help," Chakotay offered.

"Unnecessary," she replied as she retreated.

Janeway wondered what had bothered her lover. She watched the woman sway across the Mess Hall toward their daughter, who laughing loudly with Crewman Tal, Naomi, Mezoti and the other Borg children.

"Seven's a good mother, isn't she?" Chakotay asked.

"Very good" came the Captain's distant reply.

Seven made her announcement and, right on cue, Dani's face darkened. The Captain heard enough bits of words to extrapolate the nature of her daughter's protest across the room; it was something along the lines of "Naomi isn't going to bed."

Seven's face was impassive, but her retort was strong enough to force Dani to stand and wave goodbye to her friends.

=/\=

Within thirty minutes of her lover and daughter leaving, Janeway made her regrets. Her stomach was roiling and her head pounding, but she made her way to the VIP cabin instead of her own quarters.

She was surprised the VIP cabin door was locked. Two sounds of the chime finally brought Seven to the door. "Captain," Seven said formally.

Kathryn looked confused. "Can I come in?"

Seven returned to the couch, where a series of padds lay in a precise array of stacks.

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing for the departure of the away mission tomorrow." Seven resumed her position at the couch, lifting a padd that she thumbed through.

Janeway stared at her for a moment, wondering what had set Seven of Nine off so badly.

"What's the matter?" Janeway asked as she sat on the coffee table across form her lover.

Seven did not look up from the padd. "You are ashamed of me."

The tone was so flat it took Kathryn several seconds to register the fury. Janeway leaned forward, trying to get the Borg's attention. "No, darling, never. Why would you say that?"

Seven inhaled before she spoke. "You announced the relationships of four other couples," she replied. "But not ours."

"Darling." Kathryn placed on a hand on her lover's knee. "Please—"

"It is all about your image," Seven said, a small but unusual quake in her voice. "Your need for secrecy is not about protecting Eridani or I. But about protecting _yourself_."

Kathryn pulled back, as if struck in the face. "That's not true, Seven!"

Kathryn tried to take her hand, but Seven snapped it back. "Do not touch me," she said.

Kathryn strangled a frustration in her throat. "Please, Seven," she said. "It's only been a little over two weeks since we returned to Voyager, a week since the mutiny. It is like no time has gone by. It's like _nothing_."

"For you, perhaps, it is 'nothing.' For me, it is everything." Then Seven stared intently at the gray-blue eyes. "_You_ are everything and your shame of me is…damaging."

"No, Seven, this is not about shame or reputation. It's not! I promise you. Please tell me what this is about!"

Seven stared at Kathryn a moment. "You stated that when events _normalized_ you would embrace our relationship publicly."

"I know what I promised, Seven. I still want that."

"It is evident that you do not, as you agreed with Commander Chakotay that the crew has 'normalized'—your exact word. Yet, you still insist on secrecy. The only answer can therefore be that you are ashamed of me."

Seven abruptly bolted upright and marched to the door, Kathryn following her closely. "Seven, it was a casual observation. I didn't know you were listening."

Seven opened the cabin door. She lifted her chin as she turned to face her lover. "Your allocated time has expired."

"I hope that doesn't mean something drastic."

"It means it is time for you to return to your own quarters, Captain."

Kathryn tried to reach out, but Seven stepped back. She was unblinking, unflinching and, Kathryn feared, unconvinced. "All right," the Captain whispered finally. "I'll go, but this doesn't mean that I'm ashamed of you or that I don't love you more than life. It means only that I am honoring your request."

Seven stared at her. The ex Borg felt like stone and she was frozen in place like a statue.

"Do you understand, Seven?"

"Yes, Captain." It was a mechanical reply.

When she was alone, Seven felt herself shatter like a marble statue struck by a hammer. She was not aware, until now, that emotional pain could cause her to cry out.

=/\=

Kathryn Janeway stepped into the empty corridor, feeling a cold grip squeeze her heart. She'd forced herself to heed her lover, but it had taken all of her willpower to move her feet one step at a time, to turn away from the woman she loved. _Why can't she just wait for me? _the Captain wondered.

=/\=

Earlier that day, as the Delta Flyer skimmed the top of a thick forest of silvery green trees. They could see a waterfall in the distance as they landed in a small clearing.

The rainforest was cool underneath the canopy of trees. Thick silvery vines hung low from the thick trees and they were covered with a silvery blue moss. Birds flitting overhead scattered from the treetops. Strange macaw-like sounds erupted.

The away team poured out, checking their tricorders, phasers and other essential items. Chakotay handed each team a padd.

Seven of Nine lifted a brow as she thumbed through hers.

"Commander," Lt. Kim said. "I didn't get a padd."

"You're teamed with Seven and I," Chakotay said absent-mindedly. He didn't notice the dread that blipped across his face. "Okay, let's be methodical," he said to the entire away team. "I've given each of you a specific group of plants and animals to look for. Don't go beyond that scope unless you clear it with me. We need to maximize our efficiency. Right, Seven?" he asked with a wink.

"That is correct," she replied. Seven was able to ignore Chakotay's flirtatious affectation while at the same time telegraph a stealthy menace to Mr. Kim.

"Okay, we'll rendezvous here at eleven hundred."

"Uh, Commander?" Kim said, stepping close to the man.

"What do you need, Mr. Kim? We've got _real_ work to do."

Mr. Kim understood Chakotay was trying to explain that their relationship dynamic wasn't the same as it had been for the last six months. He got it. He didn't just graduate from Starfleet Academy yesterday. "I think—" Then Mr. Kim felt her or rather smelled the woman's iron-like fragrance. On the ship, her scent got lost in the recycled air. But here in this virtual paradise, it stood out like a rusty bolt among roses.

"What is it, Harry?" Chakotay asked.

Mr. Kim blinked. He wasn't going to complain to the First Officer about the ex Borg. Maybe he could make his peace with her. "Never mind. Let's get going."

Seven walked due east, following Chakotay, who nearly sprinted ahead. Lt. Kim fumbled with his tricorder. He turned in a thirty hundred sixty degrees, before following the senior pair.

Within a matter of thirty minutes, the cool of dawn had already given way to an oppressive heat and humidity in the forest. The sweat was already dripping from Harry's forehead by the time he caught up to the senior pair. He noticed the sweat drops hanging off the tips of Chakotay's hair but Seven was completely dry. Just then a spindly, thorny limb that the Astrometrics officer had shoved out her way snapped back. It left a welt across his forehead.

"So Seven," Harry said haltingly. "How are you?"

"I am currently navigating to our designated search grid, Lieutenant."

"I said _how_ are you, not what are you doing?"

She stopped and perused his form, making him blush furiously. "I see you're damage has been repaired."

"If you're asking how I feel, I do feel fine," he said. "The Doctor released me for active duty just this morning. Thank you. Hopefully I'll stay fine."

He caught the glare from Chakotay. Of course, the First Officer had picked up the implication of what he'd said. Seven seemed oblivious to Harry's fear. He had to get this monkey off his back before it drove him crazy.

"Do you remember that time—just after you joined the crew—"

"I did not _join_ the crew," she stated. "I was severed from the Collective, impressed into the crew, if you will."

"Okay—anyway, remember that time you misaligned the optical relays by point-five percent?"

"Garrulous," she replied.

"Huh?" The non sequitur threw the man off.

She stopped and looked up from her tricorder. "When you are operating within a normal parameters, you are quite garrulous. Furthermore," she said resuming her course. "I have heard it deemed 'mindless chatter' by others—"

Harry could see Chakotay's shoulders quaking just so, even though the man was nearly three meters ahead of them. "Let's go, you two," the First Officer shouted over his shoulder. "This isn't a stroll."

Harry frowned slightly. "Who calls it that?" Then he winced because even he could hear the crack in his voice. _Who cared who said that_, he thought. _It didn't matter._ But it did.

"Anyone who has experienced it, I'd imagine." Seven turned to resume her unerring course toward their grid.

"Look, I'm not trying to fill the void with niceties."

His tone made Seven stop and look back at him. He noticed that even her blue biosuit was dry, especially under the armpits. "What are you attempting then?"

"I was your first friend. That's what I was getting at. Everyone else thought you were a robot."

"Robot is a grossly inaccurate term."

"No it isn't—but regardless, I was your first friend and I'm trying to get you to talk to me about what happened between Dani and I—please don't say it again!" He held up a hand for emphasis. "I didn't mean to 'abuse your subunit'—well, me—my real self—not some hormone-addled psychopath. You don't know how many times I've dreamed that I've hit her again. It scares me…." His voice trailed off.

Seven dropped the tricorder to her side. "I am not a member of the clergy, Lieutenant. You harmed my child, and while I have been ordered not to damage you, it is also not my function to assuage your guilt."

He gave her a sour look. "That's why I asked you if you ever made a mistake."

Seven gave the appearance of giving the question due diligence. "I have not," she finally responded. "Not the sort of any significance."

He cursed under his breath, ran a hand through his sopping hair and turned his back.

Chakotay gestured for them. "Our spot is just around this bend," he said. He disappeared behind a large thick bush.

Harry picked his way quickly toward the woman, catching up to her just as she was about to round the large shrub. He cut off her path and aimed his gaping mouth at her.

Seven pulled back, shaking a faint look of disgust from her features. "What are you doing, Lieutenant?"

"Pull out a tooth," he said, managing to keep his mouth as wide as he could. "Then you'll stop hating me and I don't have to worry about what you'll do."

She frowned. "I will not harm you, Mr. Kim."

He snapped his mouth shut. "So all of these extraction puns and the comments about defanging were what? A sick joke?"

"Not a joke, Mr. Kim," she replied. Seven inhaled slowly, closing her tricorder. She ran a palm along her temple to the back of her head, while she studied the younger man. "I obeyed the letter of the regulations. Call it 'malicious compliance.'"

"What's the point of obeying orders if you're still mad?"

"Apprehension can be its own punishment. Would you not agree?"

"You know, I won't even sit with my back to the Mess Hall entrance because I was afraid you'd sneak up on me?"

"And extract a molar while you dined?" Seven shook her head. "You must think I am crass and uncivilized."

"You are Borg." He mimicked her oft-quoted affirmation, surprised when he saw the ghost of a smile on her full lips.

"To answer your question," Seven said, watching Chakotay sniffing some leaves a few meters from them. "There are many things of which I am ashamed, Mr. Kim." Her gaze shifted upward toward the dappled sky. "I can still hear the screams of those I assimilated," Seven whispered.

Just as suddenly as she had lowered her personal shield, Seven raised them. She began to run her hands over the bushes, assessing each for their potential value to the crew. "My responsibilities with the Borg were monstrous. I was the perpetrator of unjust suffering, Mr. Kim. And I am helpless to undo it. Was it a mistake? Not in the usual sense."

Harry Kim stared at the woman, trying to imagine some of those atrocities. Seven of Nine tightened her lips under his scrutiny and turned abruptly.

Beside her, he pitched his voice low. "Then you live in your own prison, of sorts."

"I did," she replied softly as she turned a leaf over.

Mr. Kim studied her profile. The starburst at her ear the only testimony to her enslavement. She leaned over, closed her eyes and inhaled the fragrance of a beautiful yellow flower. Seven straightened. "There was more to being severed from the Collective than disconnecting me from the hive mind. Nature abhors a vacuum."

Kim tipped his head to one side. "So you what? Plugged yourself into work?"

"For a time," she replied. "That was why your attempt to copulate with me was disconcerting."

Mr. Kim colored to remember that just after her arrival, she sensed his arousal with her Borg implants.

"His what?" Chakotay asked, finally stepping back. This was the first indication he'd given that he was even aware of their conversation. Chakotay stared between the two of them

"Uh, it sounds worse than it was, Commander," Harry replied. "I mean, I had a crush on Seven. Who doesn't, huh?" The comment brought a deepening glare from the Commander. "But that's all it was. Seven called my bluff."

Chakotay turned to Seven, studying her eyes and mouth in a slow agony. "So are the two of you…you two are…?"

Seven lifted her chin. "No, Commander. I copulate with no man at this time index."

Kim noted the sigh of relief on the First Officer as he pointed toward a large copse of bushes. "I'm going to check out that fruit over there," Chakotay said. "That's give you time to work this out."

Kim watched the First Officer made his way gracefully through the thickets. "You don't love him, do you?"

"No, Mr. Kim, I do not," she said, resuming her study of the flora in the vicinity.

"So nature abhors a vacuum," he prompted. "What do you mean?"

"I still needed a collective of sorts and my liberator filled that role. Captain Janeway freed me from the tyranny of the Borg and the slavery of my own self-loathing."

"I can understand that. All of that," he said. "The Captain is like a parental figure to me." Mr. Kim cleared his throat. "I can understand that. That's why I can't close my eyes without seeing the terrible things I did while I was drunk on testosterone and adrenaline. They told us at the Academy we'd be tested in the field. Kobayashi Mari was the no-win scenario, but you essentially remained who you were. I don't think I was ever prepared to fight the monster inside of me. The villain I'm afraid still waits there."

"No one is prepared, Lieutenant. You were unnaturally manipulated by your hormones and I was assimilated. We are also victims in a sense." She stopped to meet the young man's gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am. I would never hurt Dani or any kid."

"I know that, as Kath—as the Captain has offered me similar chance," she replied. "However, Eridani and the other children may be more difficult to convince."

She squatted to look at a large, elephant ear leaf.

"You weren't really going to yank out a tooth, were you?"

Seven looked up, a giant leaf between a finger and thumb. "No, Lieutenant, I would not have extricated a tooth," she said. "It was a puerile prank."

"So you're not going to kill me either?"

"Not at this time, Mr. Kim," she said.

Harry Kim opened his mouth to speak, but brushed his lips and chuckled. He'd seen it, Seven's vapor of humanity was now more like an ocean. He hoped she could find someone to appreciate it.

=/\=

Later that day, Captain Janeway had received the first initial planetological toxicology test results, showing the planet's dangers were minimal. She hit on an idea. "Janeway to Tal."

"_Tal here, Captain. Is something—Is everything okay?"_

"Yes, Lieutenant," Janeway said, smiling as she looked up. It was going take a lot of work to help Tal find her confidence, she thought. "Everything's fine. I had an idea though. But let me say, if you don't like it we don't have to do it. It's merely a suggestion."

"What is it, Captain?"

"The toxin reports show no known environmental dangers and from Commander Chakotay's descriptions, the planet is quite lush and idyllic. He mentioned a garden paradise not far from the away team camp."

"_Sounds beautiful."_

"How would you like to lead the children on a field trip—with a suitable security escort, including yours truly?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," Janeway said patiently. "Happily serious."

"Yes, Captain! Judging from the faces of my pupils, I'd say it's a wonderful notion!"

=/\=

Captain Janeway entered the transporter room, Lt. Tal Celes, all the older children and a security detail of four other officers were standing ready on the pad. She smiled and greeted them.

"Okay, listen up. There are a few simple rules to make our trip more enjoyable. There are no large animals in the immediate vicinity, but as a precaution no one is allowed to venture beyond a kilometer from the campsite. Is that understood?"

For another thirty minutes, Captain Janeway exhausted all possible permutations with which the children could find themselves. "No one is to taste anything without permission. Don't venture off by yourself…." She believed it was a thorough list of curbs, especially for her daughter's natural and prodigious curiosity.

By the time she'd finished, Dani was sitting crisscross on the pad with elbows propped on her knees and her chin wedged between two fists.

After the group acknowledged the rules, they materialized on the surface. The air was fresh and mossy-scented. Interspersed shafts of light cut through the dense vegetation but still it was darker on the surface than the children expected.

Naomi and Dani were giddy with their own flashlights, jumping and spinning their heads around. The Borg children viewed the location as any other site. Though their curiosity was peaked, it was not evident. Instead of allowing their senses to dictate any movement, the Borg children watched Captain Janeway, awaiting their orders.

"You may explore as we discussed," the Captain said.

Janeway watched as Dani stepped toward Lt. Tal, but she stopped short when Naomi slipped her hand into Celes' and they began to watch a nest of birds chirp and cry out. A red mother bird stretched her dark wings to land on top of them. They opened their beaks and she filled them with something she collected.

Dani frowned and looked around. The other children had already paired up with another child or adult. She turned slowly to meet Cappie's gaze.

Cappie held out her hand. "Can I be your field trip buddy today, Dani?"

Dani smiled faintly and took her mother's hand. "Sure," she replied.

Cappie unzipped her tunic and tied the jacket around her waist. "It's warm today," she replied.

"It's a rainforest, Cap," Dani said as she looked down, her interest captured by a colony of green ant-like insects. They were carrying seeds, leaves and food bits back to their large mound near a tree.

Cappie crouched beside her daughter. "I was always fascinated by ants," she said.

"They're Borg-like," she said.

Captain Janeway patted her daughter's knee in pride. "They are that," she replied. "How are your mother and ants different?" The very question made Janeway laugh, drawing Dani into the humor of it.

Dani watched the ants move bits of food and leaves along a line, straight to their mound. "Ants don't seem to know how to have fun," she said. "Mom does, 'cept no one really knows it. I think she scares people." Dani looked at her mother. "Kinda like you, being Captain and all."

"Well," Cappie said. "Someone's perceptions may not be accurate. Scientists—like you and me—should always try to see what we see."

"These ants are huge," Dani said, pointing them as they trekked before them. "Bigger than the ones in Indiana."

"Just," Janeway replied.

Mother and daughter submerged themselves in the teeming life that surrounded them on the jungle planet's surface.

=/\=

After lunchtime, the group resumed their exploration of the rainforest. Dani and Janeway had encountered a small waterfall by a pond. "It's awful hot, Cappie," Dani said, gazing longingly at the glass pond. "Can I jump in?"

"Oh, no! Oh, no," the Captain said. "We aren't sure what lurks in those depths."

"But you said there were no big creatures."

"I know, darling," she whispered. "But even small creatures can wreak havoc. Please obey me on this. Their could be microscopic parasites or—"

"Ew," Dani replied with disgust. "Can we sit here and look at it?"

"Oh, we can definitely do that, love."

They found a suitably shaded rock where they climbed up together to watch the soft ripples of the water in the placid, glasslike pond. They sipped their canteens.

"Are you having fun?" Janeway ventured. Though she'd arranged this field trip for an off chance to see her lover, its byproduct—namely spending time with Dani—had turned out to be the highlight of the day for her.

"Yeah," she said, tipping her head on the Captain's shoulder. "It reminds me of all the fun we had on Gweelee."

Janeway flung an arm around the girl's shoulder. "I feel the same way," she replied.

A communicator chirp joined the din of the birds overhead and it was followed by a hail from Lt. Commander Tuvok, who remained in charge aboard the ship.

"Janeway here," she said.

"_Captain, there has been an incident."_

"What kind of incident, Commander?"

"_Is this line secure, Captain?"_

Janeway glanced down at Dani, who frowned. Just then Lt. Tal and Naomi happened by. Janeway waved the Starfleet officer over and scrambled down the perch to a safe distance. "What is it?"

"_Commander Chakotay reported in only a moment ago. He, Lt. Kim and Seven of Nine were attacked and Seven remains unaccounted for."_

"What happened? How long?"

Tuvok relayed that Chakotay and Lt. Kim had been knocked unconscious about an hour ago. When they came to, Seven was gone.

"I thought there were no signs of sentient life on the planet, Tuvok."

"_Circumstances appear to contradict our sensors."_

"What of her comm signal?"

"_We located it a few kilometers due west. Commander Chakotay is en route to that location now."_

"All right, I want the children's and the security detail returned to the ship immediately. Send me the coordinates and I'll take charge of the Rescue Mission myself."

"_May I remind you, Captain, that transporters are inoperable here and you have only one shuttle?"_

She brushed an eye with the heel of her hand. Her forehead was sopping and salty sweat poured over her, stinging her eyes. Her blue Starfleet shirt was stained dark along her neck and armpits. "Have Chakotay retrieve me. Janeway out."

Janeway tramped over to Lt. Tal. "One of the away team has gone missing. This field trip is cut short," she barked, choosing not to glance at her daughter. "Gather everyone together and return to Voyager immediately. Is that understood?"

Tal jumped involuntarily at the last question. "Of course, Captain. Let's go, girls."

Naomi followed immediately, but Dani stared at her mother. Only moments ago, the Green-Text Messages had begun to roll across her visual center. She'd known the details, down to the cause and the outcome before her mother had been informed of the urgent matter.

Dani had found it strange that the GTM, as she now called it, had given her so much information. It was as if the messenger was concerned with her own fear. Knowing the outcome, she knew her Borg mother would be fine. But judging from the veins corded at Cappie's temples and the flush red of her face, her other mother was traumatized.

Dani edged toward the end of the rock. But letters began to appear superimposed over the image of her mother biting her own back teeth, the jaw muscles rippling.

"Don't tell Cappie this," the message warned. "She won't understand."

Dani wondered why she couldn't. She was so involved in the details of the message that she forgot she was staring at her mother instead of obeying her. But a sharp bellow brought her back.

"Elizabeth Eridani Janeway!" Janeway growled. "Let's move. Now!"

Dani jumped from the thunder of command.

"C'mon, Dani," Lt. Tal said, holding out her hand.

Dani hopped down and took the proffered hand.

"You okay?" Tal asked the girl.

"I didn't hear her," Dani tried to explain, hoping her mother heard.

Janeway's mind was racing, already reconfiguring equipment in her head to do localized sensor sweeps and detect ion trails and any other means at her disposal to find Seven of Nine.

=/\=

That morning at dawn, not far from where the away team rally point on the jungle planet near a high sacred plateau, two humanoid figures quarreled. The ornately tattooed men both wore animal skins. One had thick raven black hair, a hawk nose and a grotesque cleft that split his thick, upper lip.

"You promised me, Tayloc!" The man's language was distorted, due to his congenital deformity. "I could have your daughter when the time came."

Tayloc's hair was thick and white, brilliant against his burnished skin. He shrugged as he chewed his tobacco. "Zoli, you must understand. Acala has chosen another."

Zoli grimaced and cried out, a deep guttural war cry. "Women don't have those choices!"

The older man studied the younger one. "Perhaps this is why Acala did not choose you. My daughters were free from the day of their birth."

"That is unlawful," the younger man hissed. He stabbed his own palm with a calloused finger.

"This is my land," Tayloc said. "And my law."

Zoli threw his spear, gritting his teeth as he did. He skewered a small, gray-haired gruna. Retrieving his feather-garnished spear, he shook the carcass from the tip, cleaning the flint tip with some leaves.

Tayloc regarded Zoli's waste of resources with disdain. That was another reason, he mused.

"You agreed to this marriage," Zoli finally said. "You must fulfill it, even if you have to find another woman."

Tayloc gestured with a chin toward the valley. "There are several strangely dressed women by the small waterfall of Cenatuke. They are off-worlders, but quite beautiful. They have trespassed on the land given to me by the Genshu himself. You may have one of them."

"If I do not like them?" he asked suspiciously.

"One has hair like the sun, spun by the gods themselves of pure gold. She is…" The old man cupped empty space in front of his breasts. "She is well endowed for bearing children. She will be suitable, Zoli."

=/\=

Captain Janeway sat at the Operations Station as Lt. Paris watching the Delta Flyer descend through a small opening in the canopy. It was a damn shame they couldn't use the transporter. Even the sleekness of the Delta Flyer was too large in many cases to land just anywhere. The canopy was so dense that the shuttle could damage too much of the delicate ecosystem.

Chakotay had brought with him the cream of the crop. The Chief with his mobile emitter was treating Harry Kim head wound. "Captain," he said, wincing from the Doctor's touch.

"My apologies, Lieutenant," the Chief said. "The natives here were pretty crude in their anesthesia."

"Captain," Harry started again. "I'm really sorry—I just can't believe that it happened so quick. One minute we're talking about this fruit we saw and then—bang—Commander Chakotay is slapping my face to get me to wake up."

"Sorry, Harry," the First Officer said.

"It's not your fault," Janeway said flatly. "So neither of you saw who took Seven?"

Both men shook their heads. She kept reiterating in her head it wasn't their fault. Meanwhile, she had to hear a litany of reasons why Harry Kim felt a strong obligation to help find Seven, especially after what he had done to Dani.

"If the Doctor clears you, I can certainly use your help," she said, sitting at ops. Every known sensor sweep she'd performed had turned up absolutely nothing.

Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres stepped up behind Janeway. "My people have done all that, Captain. They came up with the same answer. It's like it was magic."

"I believe in magic like I believe in luck," she said coolly.

"Seven's a survivor, Captain," Neelix replied from the back of the Flyer.

"Thank you, Mr. Neelix," Janeway said, more as an automatic response to silence the man.

=/\=

The small team fanned out, looking for Seven. "The first to find her, summon the Doctor," she said, ordering him to remain behind at the shuttle.

Janeway pushed the thick branches of the underbrush aside. Some of them were thorny, but she felt none of the pricks. Only one pain registered. The loss of Seven of Nine. If something happened, Janeway would never forgive herself.

Her communicator chirped. "Janeway here."

"_Captain," _Chakotay said._ "I've found something."_

"Is Seven okay, Commander?"

"_There is no Seven. We were chasing her commbadge. Well, we found it attached to her biosuit but no Seven of Nine."_

Janeway bit down hard on her back teeth. "I'll be right there." Why did Chakotay have to find the damned clue? Why couldn't I? How did he know she was ticklish and I didn't? The recriminations she lashed herself with kept her from feeling the sharp whips of some of the branches as they snapped back against her as she trudge along to Commander's location.

He stood holding the blue biosuit—Janeway's favorite—with delicate care, as if the woman were still in it. Chakotay opened the outfit from the front, a ragged rip trailed top to bottom. "She was stripped."

It took all of Janeway's command experience to block out the anger and the fear that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Janeway wiped her sopping brow. "Who could subdue a Borg?"

"Whoever took Seven," Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres said.

"All right, I want us to fan out. Look for trails. DNA, anything. Let's go!"

=/\=

Rainforest darkness was thick. Strange animal calls echoed around them in the palpable blackness. Janeway ordered them to make camp. Biotents were erected. A campfire was lit.

The away team had turned up no trails nearby. There was no sign of Seven's DNA. There was no sign of Seven of Nine anywhere on the planet's surface. Voyager's sensors still showed the planet devoid of sentient life except for the away team.

The away team was eating rations for a late dinner, or early breakfast, quietly around the fire. Small blood-sucking insects flitted around the fire, landing occasionally to feast on a crewmember. Tom slapped one at his neck. "I hate mosquitoes," he mumbled.

"How do you know they're mosquitoes?" B'Elanna inquired, as she chowed on a bit of rations.

"They're sucking my blood!"

Captain Janeway wanted to thrash them all. They shouldn't be eating! They should be looking for Seven! But the Captain knew there were physical limits. She was feeling weak, but shoved it brutally away from her. Instead, she stepped away from the crew, just inside the shadows to reassert control over her chaotic emotions.

Janeway brushed a tear, when her commbadge chirped. _"Tuvok to Janeway."_

"Janeway here."

"_Captain, I regret to inform you that our sensor sweeps, using every known measure we have, are unable to detect any signs of Seven of Nine."_

Her head dropped into a hand.

"_Captain?"_

"I'm here, Tuvok."

"_It is as if she has vanished."_

"Tuvok." Janeway's voice nearly broke, but she ruthlessly stamped down her fears. Her crew was listening. And she would never give up on Seven. Ever.

"_However, we have just received a message, Captain."_

"A message? From where?"

"_Sensors indicate it came along the Borg communications network."_

"The Borg sent us a message?"

"_If Voyager's sensor logs are correct, yes."_

"What does the message say?"

"_Nothing, other than a set of spatial coordinates for a moon orbiting this planet."_

"Can you detect her?"

"_Sensors read no lifeforms, Captain."_

"Is the moon class M?"

"_It is with milder temperatures and a nitrogen-oxygen rich atmosphere."_

"Send those coordinates to the Delta Flyer. We will leave right after we break camp. And Tuvok?"

"_Yes, Captain?"_

"Save those sensor logs for me. Don't let anyone delete them or alter them in anyway."

"_Aye, Captain."_

=/\=

The Delta Flyer gleamed in the rising sun, as it darted toward a green moon just breaking the horizon of the planet. As they approached the coordinates, tall stone structures, some pyramidal and others columnar rose from a grassy steppe.

The shuttle touched down just shy of a large complex of stone buildings, all connected by a canal. In the center of the vast swamp stood a giant stone pyramid with a square building on top.

"I think these rocks are interfering with sensors," Tom said, as he cut the engines. "I had to land without computer-assist."

They'd drawn a large crowd, but curiously, the stone-aged inhabitants, who appeared to be human, did not seem to be threatened by the shuttle as it opened or at its crew exited.

The weather was mild, even pleasant after spending the night on the rainforest planet. Janeway looked around, trying to find someone who appeared to be in charge. The natives had dark complexions and hair, wearing animal skins. The women were topless.

"We aren't here to harm you," she said, trying to meet the gaze of anyone. But they all looked down as she tried to communicate with them.

Two one-man aerocrafts zipped over them and buzzed back. Men similar in appearance to the townspeople were riding the stone-like transports as they would a horse. They brought the crafts to land near the growing crowd.

"Look at those aircycles," Lt. Paris exclaimed. "They're made of rock. I've heard of Steampunk, but Stonepunk?"

The two men wore armbands made of leather-like material. Glyphs decorated the surface of the bands. They waved for the crowds to disburse and marched to Janeway's position. They offered Janeway a leer before speaking over her in a complex language of dipthongs and clicks.

"I think they believe I'm in charge, Captain," Chakotay said.

"Cultural hubris, Commander," the Captain whispered.

Janeway stepped aside, gesturing for Chakotay to come forward. After the native pair had spoken, the Universal Translator had only translated a fifth of the words. "I think our Universal Translator needs an overhaul," she said.

The men kept speaking, until finally the translator started to interpret most of their words. "Who are you?"

"We come in peace," Chakotay said. "We are looking for one of our crewmembers. Her name is Seven. She is tall and blonde and—"

"Follow us."

=/\=

The inside of the pyramid was a palace. Torches lit the corridors. Fine marble-like floors stretched out in polished allure. The away team was taken to a vast room without a single stick of furniture. Tall, stone columns lined the room with a giant fresco painted on one end.

It was a scene of a jaguar-like creature defending or attacking smaller animals. Chakotay studied the scene. "This is the throne room," he said.

"How do you know?"

He pointed to the jaguar. "This jaguar is a symbol of kingship. See it's inlaid with jade and gold. The symbology correlates amazingly to the native Pre-Columbian peoples of Meso-America."

"That squares with my findings," the Chief said, closing his tricorder. "Preliminary scans show that these people are from Earth, perhaps thousands of years removed. But completely human and in fact, Commander, your mitochondrial DNA, haplogroup B, to be exact, is found among these people. You're related."

Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres was studying the columns. "Look at this workmanship, Captain," she said. She tried to insert a slim card into the grooves of the columns. "This building is amazing, considering I haven't seen any tools beyond a pick and an axe."

"I suppose you're forgetting their aircycles, right?"

She frowned. "I wasn't counting those."

Just then several dark-skinned warriors, carrying plumed spears, poured into the chamber, lining up along side the away team.

The away team heard the scraping of heavy stone. What they thought was a wall, was an ornately carved door. It slid open to reveal a tall, dark-skinned man who was well muscled. He stepped into the room, cloaked in jaguar skins and his lips were pierced with ringlets of gold. He was followed closely by a white-haired man, who stood beside and slightly behind the man.

"The great Genshu has done you a great honor," the older man said to Chakotay.

"Oh, how is that?" he asked.

"He has granted you an audience. He presumes you have come to bless the union of your woman to our man."

Janeway's eyes widened and the rest of the away team looked around.

"No," Janeway said carefully, "We've come to retrieve our crewmember."

The older man frowned. "It is a grave dishonor to allow your _wanamaukay_ to speak in the presence of the Emperor."

The older man waved his hand, as if to dismiss Janeway. She turned red-faced to her First Officer. "What is he talking about?"

Chakotay stepped up. "We don't understand what wanamaukay means, sir."

"Wanamaukay! Wanamaukay!" The man attempted to yell his way into understanding.

Chakotay touched his ears and grimaced. "Please tell us another way."

The man babbled something so quickly the universal translator did not even attempt a translation. Quickly, scraping stone was heard again as the great door eased open and a topless woman entered. She was tall, with long straight dark hair and obsidian eyes. She walked over to the older man, head bowed.

The older man placed his palm behind her head and then grabbed a handful of hair. He turned the woman to him and smothered her with a kiss.

The older man kept his eyes on Chakotay, who nodded. The older man relinquished the woman and smacked her backside as she left.

"You mean wife and no, the Captain isn't my wife."

Janeway stepped forward. "I'm his Captain and we—"

The older man stepped back, his face deeply offended by her intrusion. He shook his head and pointed to Chakotay. "I am Svante, Chief Minister of the Boolarai Empire."

Chakotay introduced himself and tried to give the appearance of listening as the man introduced the Imperial Genshu, reciting his lineage for twelve generations. "Captain," Chakotay whispered. "Please let me lead this negotiations. So we can get our Seven back."

_Our Seven_, she thought. Janeway reluctantly agreed.

Chakotay reiterated his request for the return of Seven of Nine.

The white haired man shook his head. "Kuro is a grave dishonor."

"Here we go again," Janeway muttered.

"What do you mean? 'Kuro' is a grave dishonor. What does kuro mean? We don't understand, sir."

"Kuro—to take back what you have arranged."

Janeway shook her head slowly. "We never—" A narrowing of the man's eyes stopped Janeway.

"Svante, we never arranged anything," Chakotay said. "Seven of Nine was taken against her will."

The old man turned slightly, studying Chakotay from the corner of his eye. He gestured to one of the guards. "Wasn't Zoli hunting on Tayloc's land?"

The guard appeared to be an officer. He was covered with more skins, his tattoos were more elaborate and the plumage of his spear brighter.

"This is so."

"Bring them both to me now."

The guard ran off while the older man settled his eyes on Chakotay. "You wish to sit?"

The away team glanced around at the empty room.

"There are no chairs," Chakotay said lightly.

Svante clapped several times. Instantly, three topless, brown-skinned women rushed in. They were covered hip to thighs in animal skins and wore feathers and beads as anklets. Two of the women ran silently to the raised dais, where they promptly fell to their knees. The Genshu smiled as he sat upon their backs.

Janeway's face turned to horror when the other woman fell to her hands and knees near Chakotay. She glanced helplessly at Chakotay, who raised an eyebrow. "They are a curiously primitive and advanced society," the trained anthropologist said.

"Are you going to sit on this woman?" Janeway hissed.

"Do you want me to insult them before we get Seven back?"

That sobered her and she gritted her teeth, as she watched Chakotay lower himself to the human furniture. The man had the good sense to grimace when his body met hers.

"I hope this Zoli fellow comes soon," he said.

Within a few minutes, a single man accompanied the guard captain. He was stocky with ornate tattoos and a cleft lip.

The Chief Minister and the stocky man exchanged a heated discussion that the universal translator had difficulty interpreting and when it did, its translations lagged by several seconds.

"Is this true, Zoli? You stole the woman?"

"No, Tayloc gave her to me."

Just then, the giant doors slid open again and Tayloc entered the great chamber. The Chief Minister and Zoli bowed in deference to the Emperor's kinsman. He was followed closely by a young woman, whom Zoli refused to bow his head to, regardless of her royal blood.

"Brother," Tayloc said to the Emperor. "You have summoned me."

The Chief Minister inquired with Tayloc about the transfer of the woman. Slowly, he regarded Chakotay. "He confirms what we know, Great One. Zoli said he found the woman and she informed him that she was unmarried. Therefore, she was free. She was on Tayloc's land and so she was his to give."

Janeway shook her head, but she allowed her First Officer to speak. He rose from his uncomfortable perch to face Zoli and Svante. "Your countryman cannot take what he doesn't own. People in our culture cannot be owned. But you're right, she is free. Free to return with us to our ship."

The Chief Minister clapped his hand and several more guards stepped in, followed closely by Seven of Nine.

Janeway gasped at the sight of her lover. Like the other women they'd seen, Seven's breasts were uncovered and her lower torso covered in brown pelts. In typical Borg fashion, Seven was oblivious to the shame most Federation women would have felt. Even Janeway herself was not immune and she flushed white-hot anger at her mistreatment.

Seven's face was powdered white. A black gag was inserted into her mouth and her hands and feet were bound. She was barely able to walk, shuffling her feet instead because the bonds were short.

Her blue eyes went wide as she focused enough to see Captain Janeway, who wondered if the woman were drugged. Her usually fluid motions were sluggish and uncoordinated. Janeway tried to convey all the love she could in one glance. But it was far too fleeting.

The Chief Minister studied Seven, appreciating her finer qualities with a nodding leer. "Woman, are you married?"

Seven turned slowly toward her captor and shook her head.

Svante smiled tightly. "There is one way to decide this issue for a woman of marriageable age," he said in a placating tone to Chakotay. Then turning to Seven, he asked: "Woman, do you have a _hogoshaw_?"

Seven tried to work her mouth, but no sounds could be heard. The Chief Minister nodded to a guard, who tapped controls on his stone arm brace. The black ball disappeared and Seven swallowed, as if control of her mouth had been returned to her. "I am unfamiliar with that term," she stated hoarsely.

"Patron…guarantor." The Chief Minister struggled with a definition.

"Guardian?" the Captain asked.

Svante glared at the foreign woman for breeching protocol, but reluctantly agreed to her translation. "Yes," he said. "That is so. Guardian."

Before Janeway could stop him, Chakotay stepped forward. "I am her guardian."

The Chief Minister exhaled deeply, nodding his pleasure, while Zoli frowned.

"You are hogoshaw?" Svante inquired as if to confirm.

"Yes," Chakotay said, straightening himself. "I am her hogoshaw."

Zoli looked Chakotay up and down. The First Officer towered over Seven's claimant by nearly twenty-four centimeters. Zoli barked something to the Emperor that the universal translator had difficulty interpreting. As they were arguing about the diplomatic impasse,

Seven and Janeway exchanged glances. Janeway could see the edges of fury marking the taut skin around the woman's azure eyes. Janeway sighed quietly, allowing her concern to skim across the room and plead with her stubborn lover to accept Chakotay's solution to the hostage situation. But Seven's face hardened.

"No," Seven barked. "He is not my hogoshaw."

"What?" Chakotay asked, even as Zoli shouted the same from the other end of the room.

The new revelation delighted the scar-faced man. "Then she belongs to me, Genshu! She is without hogoshaw. She's mine."

The guards began to herd Seven away when Janeway jumped forward. "What's going on here?" Janeway asked.

"The woman denies hogoshaw," the Chief Minister replied, still ignoring Janeway and addressing Chakotay. His brow was deeply etched with lines. "She has no guardian, therefore Zoli will be her guardian henceforth. It is our way."

"No! She belongs with us," Chakotay said, stepping forward. Without hesitation, the guards lunged forward, pointing their spears at his heart.

He backed up, his hands raised in resignation.

"This is our way," the Chief Minister explained. "She has no hogoshaw. She belongs to Zoli."

"No," Janeway said. "Seven said Chakotay wasn't her hogoshaw. But she has one."

The Chief Minister raised his hand and the guards stopped their shoving of Seven of Nine. "Who? Who is her hogoshaw?"

Captain Janeway stepped forward. "I am her hogoshaw."

The Chief Minister, the Emperor and Zoli laughed. "You?" Svante said through derisive guffaws. "You're just a woman."

"And her hogoshaw," she said. "Ask her."

"Is this so?"

"Yes," Seven said, keeping her gaze on Janeway. "This is so."

The Chief Minister looked in alarm at the Emperor. This was unprecedented. Women were rokamani—possessions to be traded for the benefit of the tribe. The Emperor listened to Zoli plead his case based on the traditions and laws of these people. Chakotay tried to argue the same, but he was unfamiliar with their customs and made no headway.

The Emperor finally spoke. "It is decided a woman cannot be a hogoshaw—"

"Brother," Tayloc said gently. "It was my land. I say we should let the woman play Zoli. Let the Gods Themselves decide." He turned to Zoli. "Unless my esteemed nephew is afraid to face the short rokamani."

Zoli looked back at Janeway, assessing her prowess. "I'd accept the challenge," he'd lisped.

=/\=

Janeway eyed the ball court. It was made of precisely laid iron gray stones, hewn so perfect she could not even insert her fingertip into a seam. The ball court was long and narrow. Two rings inscribed with unreadable, swirling glyphs stood at a meter-and-a-half above the ground. The court walls angled out at about a 45-degree angles. Janeway reasoned it was to keep the ball in play, sending a bank in a more unpredictable trajectory.

She picked up the brown ball at center court. It was heavy, perhaps four kilograms. Its bounce was lethargic. Janeway was legendary in Velocity. With a slower ball, she reasoned she'd be mythic.

Svante joined her at center court, still bedecked in ornamental feathers from his hair and a jaguar coat on his shoulders. He reached for the ball that Janeway returned. Only then did she get sight of her opponent. Up close, Zoli was a lot bulkier than she remembered in the great hall. His cleft looked painful and he growled at her when she stared too long at it.

Janeway turned to Svante to keep her head in the game. "What is the object of this game?"

"You may win your captive back."

She'd surmised that, but little else of the rules had been explained, as she was shown down to the court behind the great pyramid. The Emperor's viewing pavilion was high above in a side room off the main pyramid, where he kept Seven of Nine with him, along with Tayloc and his daughter.

The crew was allowed to join her by the sideline, but was strictly forbidden from the court on pain of death.

"How would I accomplish that?"

Svante pointed to wall near the royal pavilion. An hourglass would be tipped to keep time. "You will have the time it takes for sand to spill from this jar into the canister to score more than your opponent."

"You score by...?"

"Placing the ball through your goal more than your opponent."

Janeway was beginning to see a frustrating circular logic to these rules. "What are the rules?"

The Chief Minister blinked at her. "To place the ball through the goal more than your opponent within the time allowed." He had started to speak slowly, as if he were speaking to an imbecile.

She ignored the meaningless insult. "If I lose?"

"You die." He smirked briefly at Zoli, who had rubbed oil on his dark, muscled body.

Janeway had already stripped her jacket. She covered her eyes and squinted. The sun was high and she could feel its warmth under her collar. _At least we aren't on the jungle planet,_ she thought.

She felt the burn of her opponent's gaze. She was as tall as he was, but his heft meant he outweighed her by a good twenty kilograms. His bulk seemed to suggest slow, clumsy movements.

Svante ordered them to their sides. Zoli had been joined by his kinsman while Janeway stepped close to her crew, divided by a small stone wall. "Captain," Chakotay said. "I want to volunteer for this."

She turned to look at him sharply, shaking her head. "I don't think so, Commander. If anyone dies, it will be me or no one."

"Preferably no one," he replied softly.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Your welcome, but don't let your opponent deceive you. He's probably quicker than he looks."

She glanced again at the dark man in the loin cloth with the blunt straight haircut. "I'm sure he is."

"And this isn't the holodeck and this game is probably a lot more complex than Svante suggested."

"Thank you for the analysis, Chakotay. I have a few tricks up my sleeves."

"I would recommend that you go barefoot and strip down to your undershirt and pants."

"Why?"

He glanced up. "This heat will become oppressive, if the current temps are any indicator. And sometimes less is more."

"Thank you, Coach. But I think I can manage."

=/\=

Captain Janeway stood in the center court, watching her opponent. He had a smug expression on his fat lips. She wondered if she was being hustled by a pool shark. Of course, it didn't matter. The there was no way in hell she'd walk away from her crewmembers, especially Seven of Nine.

Zoli scoffed at her apparel, as he strutted around the circle, a proud peacock like walk that sent the native crowds into a cheering frenzy. "The bigger they are," Janeway whispered. "The harder they fall."

He only smiled, a grotesque expression that revealed the inside of his mouth.

Janeway looked away, telling herself that now was not the time to pity anyone. Instead, she focused on a another man wearing a loin cloth who stepped onto the field, holding a rubber ball. He set the ball on the floor, under his foot. Then he whipped out two wooden paddles, about as big as a man's hand. He presented a handle to each in turn with an exaggerated flourish.

Janeway eyed the paddle suspiciously, turning it over side to side. No one had mentioned a paddle and she wondered what other little surprises were in store for her. Her expectation was not disappointed when she watched the game ball tossed up. It swayed unevenly.

_Gyroscopic force_, the scientist inside her exclaimed. There was a spinning mass hidden within the ball, complicating its trajectory and therefore the game play. _Surprise!_

Her opponent took advantage of Janeway's brief moment of examination to jump up and slam the ball into the wall. Janeway ran to intercept it on its banking trajectory. Her opponent was further down and he received the bank, due to its unexpected trajectory arc.

"Damn ball," she muttered to herself as she darted down to defend her own end zone. Its hidden, rotating center made the ball a great deal more unpredictable. This was nothing like the ball they showed her. "Foul!" she shouted to the referee.

He merely laughed. "It is a great honor for them to use this ball, rokamani. It signifies a great respect for your skill as a _warrior_."

Janeway got the impression she was being mocked. "I'd appreciate a lot less respect and a normal game ball," she huffed as she tipped the edge of the ball to alter its course from her goal. "Ha."

Zoli smirked as he twirled his body, his legs falling hard on the ground and the paddle slamming the ball on his second twist. Its banking curve took it on a high arch to Janeway's goal. With one mighty leap, Zoli knocked it through the small goal.

Janeway huffed, breathing hard with both hands on her hips. "I think I should have worn my Velocity uniform," she muttered.

"It's just one, Captain!" B'Elanna shouted.

"You own this guy!" Neelix yelled. "Not that I condone slavery, Captain!"

She nodded at the jest, grateful for the support. Janeway chanced a glance upward, trying to catch a glimpse of her love. She could see the pale hair and skin as a blurry mirage with a definite black speck where her mouth should be.

The image drove Janeway charge the ball. She managed to gain control of it, only to lose it on a clumsy dribble down court and out of bounds. Janeway smacked her thigh with the paddle and stood in front of her opponent at center court. The ball was tossed in the air and she was there to gain possession of it. She shepherded it down the court, sinking it for a goal. "That more like it," she muttered, with a swipe across her sweaty brow.

=/\=

Fifteen minutes later, Janeway was behind by two goals. She glanced up at the "clock" as she was bent over at the waist, her arms slung low and the paddle held near her knees.

Her opponent looked smug as he watched her trying to catch her breath. "What a ridiculous sight," he snorted.

Janeway was able to tune him out as she considered his mid-section. She could hear the voice of father, Edward Janeway, berate her during a game of sovet kezi. A combination of Earth soccer, basketball and lacrosse, the Bolian game required the ball to be bounced or dribbled, with limited out-right carries. Her coach-father had often tried to explain to his daughter that the ball could fool her. "Your opponent's core is a more efficient predictor of velocity and path," he chided.

Janeway nodded, as if accepting the decades old lesson.

Instead of flying up to fight for possession, she allowed Zoli to jump and slam the ball in a direction not previously used. Kathryn was down court, intercepting it before he had reached it. She used her own feint and in quick succession, the strategy worked to score two points.

Zoli growled at the clock, while they waited at mid-court. In mid jump, Zoli's paddle sliced the ball, sending it directly at her. It slammed her eye, knocking her to the ground. The crowd cheered wildly, while her crew grew quiet.

Her own body twisted at the end, sending the ball in the wrong direction than her opponent had anticipated. He reversed course while Kathryn rose slowly from the ground. By this time, Zoli was shepherding the ball past her. She stuck out a foot at the right time, sending the ball where she wanted it.

But just as she tried to run past the man, her opponent hammered her shoulder, sending her a few meters into the wall.

She hit the stone wall with a dull thud, her head snapping back sharply. Janeway wanted to let herself sink to the ground and call time, but she had a feeling that once the sand grains started, nothing stopped them.

"Dirty move, cretin!" B'Elanna roared.

Janeway pushed off the wall with a grunt. Before she could reach him, he had scored. She was rubbing her shoulder as they walked to the center court. "Is that how we're going to play?" she asked.

Zoli laughed, a rumble she didn't care for.

Janeway glanced back at Seven through one eye, the rapidly swelling shut from the ball slam. Her opponent followed her gaze.

"Get one last look."

"The hell you say," Janeway mumbled, lowering herself for probably the last two plays. It was now or never.

This time, she stayed planted as he jumped. She stepped out of the circle, in time to see him come down with a paddle in one handle and a shiv in the other. She was barely able to scramble out from under his deadly thrust.

Zoli surged forward, but he met her shoed feet on his belly. He flew backwards a few meters, surprise etched on his ugly face. She scrambled to her feet, looking for the ball. As she ran past him, he held out the shiv, aiming for her leg.

_Son of a bitch!_ she thought. _Doesn't he care that I haven't threatened him once?_

Thanks to Starfleet self-defense courses, Janeway easily eluded his clumsy attempt to maim her. Before he reached her, she had scored.

Zoli slashed the crude knife across the air in a malicious 'z'.

"I don't want to hurt you," Janeway said in a hoarse voice as she wiped her brow.

"Your very presence here hurts me and every honorable man. A rokamani has never entered this sacred ball court," he hissed. "They belong in a man's bed with their legs open."

"You're not my type," she snarled. "Neither is Seven."

"It doesn't matter," he replied. "Only a man's wishes count here."

"Wrong," Janeway said as she watched the ball descend. "Only one goal counts."

He growled as he slammed the ball so hard, it sailed over her. It was a long trajectory, past her goal. But Zoli reasoned he was quicker than her and he could recover it before his unworthy opponent.

Janeway realized the same thing and changed her strategy, making her stand between him and her goal.

"You're pathetic," he said, nodding at her paddle. "Since you do not use the weapons at your disposal."

"There are more weapons here than you can see," she said enigmatically.

The comment gave him pause. In the brief hesitation, Janeway stripped the ball from his control, running down the court in an erratic pattern. He took a page out of her book and stood between her and the goal. But she didn't wait.

Janeway slammed the ball against the wall beside the goal, surprising him. Before he could turn to predict its movements, the game ball sailed high overhead. She jumped up to tip it into the goal.

She walked smugly to the center, the referee waiting for them. She knew by the look in his expression that this would likely be the last play.

Just before the ball released from the referee's hand, Janeway took that moment to unlock the shiv from inside the paddle. It drew her opponent's eye and she slammed the ball toward his end zone, running at an angle away from his slashing arm.

Just as she was about to take what she hoped was the final shot, a heavy body slammed into her from behind, sending her sprawling forward. Her knife and paddle hurtled in opposite directions. Janeway grunted as she hit the grassy ground, but twisted her body to find her opponent looming over her, slicing his shiv across his paddle.

"That is your weakness," he said. "Rules in your own mind that do not really exist."

He lunged forward, slapping her legs out of his way. Kathryn blinked. Everything slowed down to painful time. Zoli's large body was going to slam into her, likely breaking some ribs. His knife was aimed at her heart. She rolled away from his right arm, but couldn't clear his body slam. His arm smacked into her ribs with a hard thud. She cried out, as did her cheering team.

"Dirty cheat!" Tom cried out.

"You dishonorable pig!" B'Elanna shouted.

Zoli hit the ground with a squall and his shiv drove into the grass. Janeway continued rolling until she was well out of his reach.

He grabbed her blue striped shiv and grunted in an attempt to unsheathe his own from the hard ground.

Meanwhile, Janeway scrambled up to get the ball with her own hands. She was holding it against her chest, both arms wrapped around it.

Two shivs glistened in the high noon sun. Steam was rising from the ground.

"You can't win," he growled.

"I can't lose," she replied. "But I won't harm you."

He muttered a curse.

Zoli watched Janeway unconsciously rub her aching ribs with her elbows. He could tell from the odd lumps that he'd probably broken a few with that slam. He could use that against her.

Zoli circled her. "You're going to die."

"No, I'm not. I've got too much to live for." Janeway kept her feet light.

"Kick his ass, Captain!" B'Elanna's cheer almost made her smile.

Janeway dropped the ball to her feet, tapping it as she kept an eye on her armed opponent. He charged her. She reared her booted foot back. The ball punched his forehead, popping straight up. Zoli blinked for a moment, clearly stunned.

Janeway zipped by him, tapping the descending ball with a fist toward the goal. She was nearly away when she felt a sting in her ass. She cried out, lurching forward. A hand told her what she feared. Her own blood dripped from her fingertips. The ball landed in a thud a few meters ahead of her.

The stocky body rumbled past her. He bent down to scoop it up, but was met with his own irresistible force. She slammed down on him with the full force of an elbow in his spinal column.

"Oh, Captain!" Tom shouted. "What a great wrestling move!"

"Look at the grimace on that man's face," Neelix pointed out.

B'Elanna smirked. "She's not heavy, but weight, gravity and a sharp elbow are a potent force."

Zoli fell to the ground, but as soon as her feet touched earth, Kathryn lunged forward. She held her side, her eyes intently focused on the still ball just a step ahead of her.

She kicked it from his grip, dribbling it down the field toward the goal. She heard a deranged cry from behind her. But she eyed the goal, bringing her foot back. She sent it sailing, wobbling back and forth. It ringed the goal once before falling in just as the referee called time.

Zoli disregarded the official, slamming into her full force from behind. Her back bowed, her head and legs dangling behind from the thrust. Janeway was barely able to bring her arms up to prevent from being slammed against the angled wall. It still hurt like hell when his body smashed hers against the stones.

He raised the shiv to strike, but her boot crunched the top of his arch with her heel. Zoli cried out, but it was strangled when her elbow smashed into his throat again and again.

Janeway felt his weight slump from her and she turned to catch his form double over. Her elbow pounded the back of his neck, beating him to the floor in blow after blow, just as her knee pummeled his solar plexus.

Janeway twisted his thumb until he dropped the last shiv, as he fell. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and nose. She was surprised to find blood, as she staggered back, slamming into Doctor's solid form.

"Easy, Captain." His holographic hands steadied her as she nearly collapsed. "Let's sit down, hmm? Oh, on second thought, let me take care of that laceration to your gluteus maximus."

She dropped her hands to her knees, letting her head loll forward. She felt like she could collapse right here. Only the scent of water from a proffered cup snapped her eyes open again. One of the native women offered the cup with a nod, while gesturing to her sister who'd fallen to her hands and knees. Janeway accepted the big jug gratefully but waved away the human furniture. "I'll stand," she said in a smoky, cracked voice.

The Doctor gripped her bicep to raise her up, while his medical tricorder began to assess her other injuries. B'Elanna Torres appeared from out of nowhere, or so Janeway thought. The Klingon handed the woman's Starfleet tunic. "Here you go, Champ. I'm here to cover your ass," she said.

Janeway smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she croaked. She fumbled with the jacket, but her shaking hands couldn't manage. Finally, B'Elanna handed the water jug back to Janeway and began to tie the jacket. "I think you've been eating too much of Neelix' vicious swah, Captain," she said. "I think you've gained weight."

"I'm not that grateful, Lieutenant," Janeway replied sharply.

"You know, we wouldn't want to offend the natives. Should I take your shirt and bra?"

Janeway thought about chuckling, but she swung her head back and let most of the water fall into her dry mouth. The rest sluiced down both sides, joining the other stains of her sweater.

She sputtered and coughed when she pushed the jug away. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Her smile looked grotesque through the red, swollen eye and bloody nose. Janeway could hear the boneknitter running over her ribs. She wanted to cry out at the sheer relief as the Doctor healed the worst of it.

Meanwhile, Chakotay held a clean cloth up to her face, holding it to her bloody nose. She tried to tip her head back, but his gentle hand held her forward. "Don't do that. It sends the blood back into your sinus cavity. We want it to go onto the cloth."

"You've done this before," she rasped into the rag.

"Boxing was a foolish interest."

"Doctor, fix my face." Janeway's order was muffled, but it still cracked with the command.

"But I'm not done with your ribs. You have three compound fractures and—"

"Later," she said. "And give me something for the pain."

"But if I fix it—"

Janeway turned a frown on the holographic doctor. "Do it."

She could hear the whine of the dermal regenerator as she watched the Emperor descend to the ball field from his pavilion. His brother Tayloc and Seven of Nine followed him closely.

The Emperor waved a hand, as two guards carried a slumped and bloody figure from the field.

"Take him away," the Chief Minister ordered.

"Please," Captain Janeway said. "Don't hurt him."

"You do not want revenge?" he asked curiously.

"Revenge? For playing as good as he could? No, Svante. Please don't punish him."

For the first time, the Chief Minister allowed himself to really look at Janeway. He touched his chest and bowed slightly. "You have fought like a Dagecki—a true warrior—and we always honor warriors."

She watched as the guards dragged him from the field. "Would you allow our doctor to treat him?"

"But he is not your concern."

"No, but we could help him," she said, gesturing to her own lip. "We could help him with more than just a band-aid for today's wounds."

Svante stared again at the Captain. "You can do this?"

"Yes, and we will if you'll allow it."

Svante inclined his head in thanks. Suddenly, he clapped his hand. Seven of Nine and three native women, all topless, were brought forth to stand in a line. "Your reward." He gestured to them. "Now you must choose."

Janeway's eyebrows scrawled together. "What do you mean 'choose'?"

"Your spoils."

"I thought Seven would be released."

"You are Dageki—The Champion of the Gods. You must choose…." He gestured to the women.

"But—"

The Chief Minister sighed. "Your bride is among them."

Janeway's eyes widened to twin moons. "My bride?"

She could hear discreet chuckles from her crew. "But—"

The Emperor's smile vanished and he gestured to his Chief Minister. "It is a grave insult to refuse totemo shooree, Captain."

"What is totemo shooree?

"The Spoils of Victory, of course. You are Dagecki. We honor our heroes, as I have said. Our holy man will perform the deed."

"Captain," Chakotay said in her ear. "I can take over. Maybe you can cede your rights to me—"

"No!" Janeway shouted peremptorily. "No, Commander. I think it's high time I step up to what I should have done months ago."

Janeway's eyes met Seven, who waited. She could sense that Seven was hopeful, but was trying to project a Borg-like indifference. _It didn't work_, Janeway thought. _She wants this as much as I do._ The Captain pointed to the tall blonde. "That one."

Instantly her gag and bonds were loosened. Seven stepped toward the woman. Janeway released the knot of her tunic arms, holding it up for Seven. She grieved that it was too small to fully cover the woman, but her breasts were now hidden from the leers.

Seven's arms held the tunic against her, as she ran the backs of her fingers along the planes of the noble face. "Are you...?"

"I'm fine," Kathryn rasped. "Are you okay?"

"Just play along, Seven," Chakotay said. "You'll have to marry the Captain but it won't be legal. Not in any Federation court. Then we can leave here and get back to normal."

Seven turned slowly to Captain Janeway, her hand dropping from the face she loved. "Is this so?"

Kathryn swallowed. _Well, Katie. Dammit. You got your ass prodded. Your ribs cracked. Your face smashed and you nearly lost her. What the hell are you going to do now?_

Kathryn kept her eyes on Seven, though one was blurry. Though the Doctor had run the dermal regenerator over it, it remained swollen and red. "Only if you want it that way," Janeway said quietly. "Or…we could do this once and for all."

Seven's eyes widened a nanometer. She still held herself about six centimeters away from the Captain.

Chakotay grabbed Seven's hand to pull her away. Seven's resistance stopped him. Then he blinked, trying to make sense of what he heard instead of trying to impose what he wanted to hear. "What did you say, Captain?"

Tom, B'Elanna and Neelix stared at the scene in wonder. The Doctor was smiling indulgently. Harry Kim looked as befuddled as Chakotay, as he searched the three faces.

Seven freed her hand from Chakotay's grip. Her gaze was still intent on Captain Janeway. "Is that a proposal?"

"Not a very good one, I'll admit," she said.

"What going on here?" Chakotay asked, placing his hands on hips.

"Perhaps you require practice," Seven suggested.

Janeway smiled crookedly. "You aren't going to make this any easier on me, are you?"

"I do not believe my function is to make it easier on you," Seven replied.

Chakotay stepped closer, looking between the two women. "What's going on here?"

"Spoken like a wife," Janeway said. "Seven of Nine, would you please form a new collective with me?"

"A new and permanent collective?" Seven spoke the words, but the entire crew echoed the words in disbelief.

Janeway nodded. "A new and permanent collective that will be _imperfectly_ efficient," she said. She finally stepped closer, shaking hands cradled Seven's face. "But I promise to do everything both possible and _impossible_ to make you as happy as you make me. If you'll have me, despite my selfishness and stupidity in the last few weeks."

Seven tipped her head and lightly kissed Janeway's bruised lips. The woman grunted with pain, but held Seven in place after she tried to pull away.

Seven inhaled sharply at Janeway's open display of affection. "I surrender, Kathryn Janeway."

The Captain shook her head, making her swoon slightly. One of Seven's hands steadied Kathryn's hips, while the other kept the tunic over her chest.

"I'm the one surrendering, you know," Janeway said.

"Then I accept your terms."

Seven's open mouth descended on Kathryn's. Their bodies pressed together, the tunic sandwiched between. Despite the crowd, it was a ravenous and thorough kiss, tongues unashamedly surging and retreating in brazen possession.

Seven's arms circled Janeway's shoulders, working frantically to seal them together. When they pulled back, both women were panting.

"That's quite a proposal," Neelix said.

"Is this really happening?" Tom asked, chancing a glance at his wife.

"Damn, Seven," B'Elanna said. "That was some, uh...Wow!"

"You can say that again," Tom said.

"Like Kahless wow!"

Kathryn pulled back. "Is that a yes then?"

Seven ran the backs of her fingers down Kathryn's cheek and along her jaw line. "How can I refuse as I am the Champion's reward," she said smoothly and calmly.

"Do you want to refuse?" Worry suddenly sullied Kathryn's battered face.

"The contrary is true. I insist, Pips."

"Pips!" Tom and B'Elanna bellowed together.

From the security of her lover's embrace, Kathryn's eyes finally focused on her crew. Seven recognized that Kathryn was on the verge of becoming the Captain at that moment. So she took the time to pull back, tipping Kathryn's chin to her.

"But I make one demand, Kathryn."

Janeway blinked, refocusing on Seven. It was so easy now. Just so easy to be Kathryn at this moment. _What a gift Seven has given me_, she thought. "Anything, darling."

"Darling?" Tom and B'Elanna repeatedly soundlessly to each.

"Do not again endanger our unborn child." Seven's hand went automatically to her lover's belly, rubbing the growing mound. She glanced at the Doctor. "She is fine, is she not?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "The baby was the first one I checked. The human womb is remarkably cushioned."

In the crew's open-mouthed shock of silence, their eyes dropped to see the connection.

"Baby?" B'Elanna, Tom, Neelix and Harry screeched after understanding finally hit.

"Wait a minute! Waitagoddamnminute!" Chakotay shouted. He drew the attention of the Emperor and his entourage.

Seven's face became stony as she turned toward her former lover.

Chakotay's eyes followed the line of Seven's arm to where the two women's hands were joined. "Is this the end for us, Seven? Out of the blue? On a strange planet? All for _her_?" The last word was issued in a stinging rebuke that nearly made the Captain step forward. But Seven's hand tightened around the Captain's sore appendage, bringing her interference to an excruciating halt.

"No, Commander," Seven replied evenly. "On stardate 54836.5, I informed you our relationship was terminated. I have not by word or deed given you any other encouragement." She raised an eyebrow as challenge.

Chakotay glanced around, scratching his tattoo as he met the gazes of his crewmates. "Look, I don't want to make a public spectacle..." He glanced at the Captain, his thick lips drawn tightly. "More of a public spectacle. I think we should just discuss this."

"Inefficient," Seven declared. "Commander. I have accepted Kathryn's marriage proposal. She is carrying my child and we will raise our children together."

Chakotay's eyes darted down to the Captain's swollen belly. "So it's not really Neelix' Goulash Krenim?" he asked.

"No," Janeway said quietly, covering her abdomen with her splayed fingers.

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I believe I did," Seven replied.

"No, why didn't the Captain tell me, especially as she was blowing smoke about crew unity," he looked away, a painful laugh echoed out as he remembered something. He blasted Captain Janeway with a scornful gaze. "Or how you didn't want to get involved with Seven and my relationship. Remember that?"

Before Janeway could answer, Chakotay turned his back. "I am going to have to think seriously about my role on Voyager now," he hissed.

"Commander Chakotay," Captain Janeway said, stepping out of Seven's embrace. "This incident is personal and will not affect my professional respect and trust in your abilities as my number one. So if you choose to sever your relationship with us, it will be for another reason other than the regard I hold you."

"I believe I'm due on the bridge," he said without looking back.

"Dismissed, Commander."

"Aye, Captain."

He stepped over, tapped his commbadge and dematerialized. Janeway wished the rest of the crew would dematerialize. Instead, they drew closer.

"So are you really going to tie the night?" Tom asked.

For a brief second, Seven feared that Janeway would become the Captain again and shrink away from her. Instead, Janeway slipped her arm around Seven's middle, pulling the woman up against her.

The move startled the crew, having never seen Janeway display such open affection and love. "Yes, we are," she said. "Nothing could keep me from that rendezvous." She lightly pecked Seven's lips, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the crew. It only made Janeway smile. "And, Doctor?"

"Yes, Captain."

"I want you to make an official entry in your log so that our ceremony is legal and binding."

The Chief Medical Officer nodded, satisfaction smoothing his features. "Of course."

Seven stared down at the battered state of her future spouse and of her uniform. "I will require you to bathe prior to sharing your bed."

"What did you just say?" B'Elanna asked incredulously.

"Aye, darling," Janeway said, with a nod as she nestled closer.

Then B'Elanna blinked at the Captain. "Did you just...did you just—"

When the Captain turned to regard her Chief Engineer, her features were stern, in customary Janeway fashion. "Did I what, Lieutenant?"

"Did you just give in to Seven of Nine without a big official inquest?"

Janeway frowned. "You make it all sound out of place," she said. "I—"

"It is!" several of them replied loudly.

Seven pulled the Captain close. "It is a delicate dance we mastered on Gweelee. Kathryn was the perfect housewife." The ex Borg kissed the top of Kathryn's head.

Janeway wasn't satisfied. She lifted her lips, offering them to the taller woman. Without hesitation, Seven leaned over and kissed the woman soundly, leaving her breathless. The obvious affection garnered some coos and some sharp inhalations from the crew.

The Captain looked over at the group. "Oh, grow up! For heaven's sakes."

"We are all having a little trouble," B'Elanna said with a hand flourish. "Imagining Captain Janeway as a...as a...housewife."

Janeway smiled crookedly. "I was a damn good one," she said. "Bet on that."

"I'm unconvinced," the Klingon said with a playful grin. "You're notorious for burning replicated food—"

Janeway raised a finger and was about to give B'Elanna a lesson in history, when Seven squeezed the woman's middle. "I can assure you," Seven replied in her fiancé's defense. "Pips is quite conversant in the ways of the traditional preparation of food."

"And the bedroom?" Tom asked, earning an elbow from his wife and a glare from the Captain.

"If your inquiry refers to Kathryn's sexual prowess," Seven replied before Janeway thought to stop her, "then she is an authority who—"

"Seven!" Janeway shouted too loudly. She could feel her face burning. "Darling, he's baiting you."

Seven regarded the smug Tom Paris with an assessing eye.

"Don't fall for that," she whispered. "Keep our private life private."

"I shall remember that tactic, Mr. Paris."

He smiled brazenly. But his wife entered the foray again. "What remains to be seen will be whether a former Borg drone can be a damn good Captain's wife," B'Elanna said with a challenging look.

Seven lifted her chin. "As with all of my roles, I will be efficient or I will adapt."

=/\=

The Chief Minister approached with a smile. "I am gratified that the gods have favored you with Victory."

Janeway squeezed Seven's middle. "Thank you, Svante. So are we."

"Now, where are your fathers?"

"Our fathers?" The question made Janeway blink.

"Yes, yes, it is part of our tradition. Your fathers must oversee the wedding ceremony."

"They are deceased," Seven replied.

He eyed them both. "Perhaps I should not be surprised with maidens…blossoming so late in season."

Seven stepped forward, her Borg hand reaching out for him. "Seven," Janeway whispered. "Please let it go."

Janeway turned to Svante. "Is there some other way we may honor your tradition?"

"I suppose there is precedent," he said, stroking his beardless chin. "You may select your Tenzai."

"Tenzai being…?"

"Honored fathers. They are needed as the traditional Boolarai wedding ceremony will begin immediately."


	9. Tying the Rope

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Life was hectic. But we adapt, right? Thanks for all the encouragement. I hope you enjoy it.

**Quantum of Chaos  
****Chapter 9: Tying the Rope**

Tom Paris wiped sweat from his brow as he walked down a long, stone corridor. He finally found the right gray stone door after he'd looked at the holopicture he'd taken of it on his padd. He couldn't read the hieroglyphs, but he didn't have to. The image over the door before him was of a feathered serpent ascending to the heavens, identical to the one on his padd.

He tried to knock on the door but ended up only hurting his knuckles. "Captain?" he called out. "It's me."

Scraping sounds of stone on stone preceded its opening. He stepped into the Spartan, torch-lit room. Captain Janeway stood in the middle of the small room draped in shimmering Boolarai clothes.

He stared at her for a moment. "As your father, I gotta tell you—your bachelorette party must have been a helluva riot."

Tom held up a mirror that he'd been asked to bring. Janeway groaned to see the flickering image of her black eyes and bruised, swollen lips. "This is not how I envisioned my wedding day."

Tom glanced around at the dim room. "I'll bet," he said. "You probably weren't expecting to get married in Bedrock and to Wilma, no less."

Janeway lowered the mirror and furrowed her brow. Her auburn brows were craggy scrawls over her eyes.

Suddenly conscious of her stare, Tom cleared his throat. "Oh, well, yeah," he said, catching a glimpse of the pre-cursor to the infamous Janeway blitzkrieg. "Obviously, I was wrong. I mean _you_ are clearly Wilma, with the red hair and all. The problem with my analogy is Betty was a raven-haired girl. So that—"

"Mr. Paris," she finally said with forced patience. "Sometimes your cultural reference are rather obscure, to say the least."

"Yeah, but Boolarai is definitely Bedrock," he replied. Tom threw his hand at the four torches lighting the small room. "Stone-age modern…They have hovercrafts and still use fire as light. I'd call that…." He let his voice trail off, watching her try to smooth over or cover her small facial bruises and cuts.

"Oh!" Tom blurted. "Oh! I forgot. I swiped this—" He held up the dermal regenerator. "From the Doctor before he beamed to the ship with that loser."

Janeway's look of relief almost made Tom kiss her cheek. But _that_ would be crazy. She tried to use it on herself but in the end, she lifted her chin for him. "Can you help me, Tom?"

She closed her eyes and Tom began to run the regenerator over the broken skin along her cheekbones and lips. The Doctor had done this very thing just after her bloody victory on the ball field. But all the tissue damage had not been repaired.

"So I guess you never thought you'd get married in the Delta Quadrant, did you?"

Janeway opened her eyes and made a soundless no. Then she resumed an almost meditative state.

"Did you ever think you'd marry a woman?"

She glared at him with one eye.

"I'm just asking! I am Tenzai—your most honored father." He pressed his palms together and bowed, before resuming his task.

She sighed. "No, after Mark Johnson had broke the news of his own marriage to me, I—ah, I thought I'd be a Jim Kirk type."

Tom shook his head after a grunt of disgust. "B'Elanna thinks he was a pig," he said. "I think he was a _lucky_ pig."

Janeway chuckled in spite of herself. "Well, I don't believe that he actually seduced every alien woman he encountered—"

"Just the blue ones?"

She chuckled again, glad that Tom was making this awkward and anxious moment a little easier for her. "I actually had resigned myself to being married to my ship."

"Someone in the Collective could probably understand that better than most."

Janeway gave a look of surprise. "I never thought of it that way, but I guess you're right."

"I'll bet my father would have volunteered to walk you down the aisle."

Janeway smiled softly, sharing a look with Tom Paris. "The Admiral—your father—was like a father to me after mine died, you know."

"I know, I know!" he replied. "You were like that awful sister who did everything right while I was the family fuck up."

Janeway sobered. "You are not a fuck up, Tom. Don't let anyone tell you that, least of all _him_!"

He paused, the regenerator's whine dulling slightly. "Did I ever tell you how grateful I am that you sprung me from captivity?"

The Captain shook her head and looked in the mirror. "Oh, that looks…better."

He stepped back, as if he were an artist examining a sculpture. He held up his thumb and studied her out of an eye. The bruises were in the final stage, the best the regenerator could do under such short notice. Her lips were completely normal and really, Tom thought, that was the most important thing.

"That is better," he said. "Now you just look like a Cadet after Spring Break."

She sighed, as fingers marked the small nicks and abrasions on her face. Janeway told herself she was going to have to start taking things easier. The pregnancy was one reason and the second; she was too old for this nonsense.

"I'm serious, Captain," Tom said. He found that he had to say that a lot. It was the price of being the ship cut-up. He tapped a single finger on her shoulder. "I mean, about the other thing—not about—"

"I know, Tom," she said, still looking and trying to remember.

"I was on a long road to hell. And getting stuck here with you was the second best thing that ever happened to me."

Janeway's reflection glanced up at him. "B'Elanna being the first?"

"Yeah, though I guess after the baby is born you'll be downgraded to third."

"As it should be, Tom. As it should be."

The Captain dropped the mirror on the only small table, the echo pinging around the room a little too long. Janeway glanced around the room, though she couldn't remember exactly what she was looking for. Then she looked down at the Boolarai groomsman's attire draped over her small frame. The sleeves were a little too long. She touched the material. It was soft with a hint of teal coloring, almost silk-like with silver threads catching the light.

It was so translucent she opted to wear a fresh Starfleet shirt underneath. It was a bit of a color clash but then again, Seven had always liked the ghastly combination of gaudy colors. She smiled as she rubbed her sleeves. They'd be together soon, as a married couple. This was all worth it, Janeway thought.

Janeway glanced down at her pants, which were more opaque and midnight black. Both pieces were zipperless and buttonless, but each had long ties that had to be woven around the wearer. She had yet to find a gracious way to bind her clothing, fumbling again with the shirt ties.

"Since the mood is right…"

The Captain looked up to find Tom leaning against a hewn rock wall as he spoke.

"…And we are being so serious. I want you to know how honored I am to serve as your Tenzai, Captain. I never guessed you felt that way about me."

Janeway chuckled at the smirk on his lips. Even when Tom was serious, he wasn't serious. "Actually, my first choice for Tenzai was taken," she replied.

"Oh, I see," he replied with a grin. "Seven picks Tuvok as her honored father and that leaves who? Chakotay—the scorned lover?"

Janeway sense of mischief evaporated. Tom always went too far. "Don't go there, Mr. Paris."

"I'm still smarting over being second string Tenzai—or even third."

Janeway ignored him, focusing on the gaggle of strings hanging around her, trying to tie the silken sash. "These Boolarai clothes have pretty complex laces."

Tom stepped up to her, leaning back to get a good luck at the trousers and shirt she was wearing. "Well, this society is pretty strange from their clothes to their customs."

"Maybe," she said absent-mindedly. "But they accepted Seven and my relationship without batting an eye. That's pretty evolved, if you ask me."

"Besides that thing where they sit on women, right?"

She looked up, a surprised look there. "I forgot about that," she whispered. Janeway rubbed her temple. "I'm forgetting a lot, it seems. Can you help me here, Tom?"

He shook his head, raising a hand to tap his lips. "You might want to wait to get all wrapped up for your big Boolarai ceremony."

Janeway paused when she saw Tom Paris blush slightly. _This can't be good_, she thought. "What is it?"

He pulled a sling from his back. "Remember, this isn't my doing." He set the bagged contents on the palm of his hand and unwrapped it with the other.

Janeway gasped to see a smooth jade phallus. It was standing at curved attention, inscribed with an ornate design of glyphs. The stone-age dildo was attached to leather straps.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

Tom shrugged, not the least bit flustered by having to explain the use of sexual aides to his commanding officer. "As Svante explained it to me—by custom, one of you must stand before the Boolarai gods so they can be fooled into blessing your union."

"Why me?"

"You're the Dagecki," he said, confidently bandying about the native lingo. "Champions usually sport a natural protrusion…" He eyed the jade appendage. "Or a green one."

She felt the burn of embarrassment all the way to the tips of her hair. "God! The things I do for that woman," she muttered. Gray eyes met Tom's. "You tell Seven I said that and you'll be scrubbing plasma conduits for the next five years. Is that understood, Lieutenant?"

"Aye, Captain," he replied. "Though I feel a little put out. I thought a Tenzai was respected. I feel totally disrespected here."

"You're not the only one," she said, yanking the strapped dildo from Tom's hand. "If you even breathe a word of this to anyone I'll make your life so miserable, you'll beg me to drop you off at a Vidiian Penal colony. Get me?"

Tom chuckled. It was a deep murmur in his chest, like something he was trying to swallow. "Did you just make a pun, Captain?"

When she continued to stare at the contraption, Tom offered a single word. "Penal sounds an awful like—"

"Mr. Paris!" Janeway threw her head back and pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is definitely not how my wedding day was supposed to be."

Tom grabbed the phallus by its shaft away from her dangling grip, swinging it like a sword. "So, are you going to try to play along? Or…?"

She jerked it back from his grip. "Get out so I can finish dressing."

He gave her an apologetic look. "There's one more thing," he said.

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes slightly. She glanced around and set the erect dildo on the only table in the small, windowless stone room. "What is it now?"

He pulled a small black velvet bag from his pockets. Two golden rings bounced onto his palm, glinting in the firelight. "You can't have a wedding without rings?"

She stared at the twin, braided gold bands. Janeway gingerly pinched on between a thumb and index finger. "Tom, where did you get these?"

"I'd love to tell you they're hand-crafted," he said. "They're just replicated though."

Shiny eyes stared up at him. "But these must have cost someone a year's supply of replicator rations, not to mention the time to program it."

"Some of us—a large, large pool of some of us actually donated the rations as a wedding gift and well…ta-da!"

"Who?" Janeway demanded as she leaned toward the light to get a closer look at the simple ring.

"A long, long list," he said. "I'll make sure you get it. We can be quite evolved, too, you know."

She snapped her eyes to him. "I—I never said you weren't."

"But you didn't trust us," Tom said. "While I'm not anyone's spokesman, including my wife's, I think I can safely say that we generally like the two of you. We're glad you found each other."

He nearly jumped back when Janeway lunged forward, squeezing him around the neck in a bear hug. "You're welcome, Captain," he croaked. "Now I need to breathe."

"I'm sorry, Tom," Janeway said. "This gesture was very kind."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "And we don't sit on our women. Well, you don't. I do."

Janeway offered a crooked smile. "You don't know how timely it is."

"Oh, but I do," he said. He glanced at his chronometer. "You've got five minutes of freedom before you have to get your Dagecki butt up to the pyramid of fertility."

=/\=

Kathryn Janeway dropped her breezy, satiny native pants. She had just buckled the first of the leather straps when she realized her error. There was no way she could feel sexy or comfortable wearing her Starfleet issue gray underwear. But what alternative did she have? She brought her pant leg close to her eyes, straining in the dim light to see whether the fine cloth was too sheer.

She threw her head back, rolling her shoulders. This is definitely not how she envisioned her wedding day. She should be wearing a traditional white dress—okay, off-white—and this should be happening in Indiana. If she were there, Kathryn knew that her mother and sister would be now buzzing around her like two busybodies, arguing over how much "baby breath" to put in her hair. Her father should be preparing to walk her down the aisle and she should be twenty years younger.

But she isn't. Janeway was almost as far from home as she could get without leaving the galaxy. She was preparing to partake in some bizarre alien ritual that she knew nothing about and isn't sure she even wants to. Edging beyond forty was not a welcome milestone and now she was spotting more white hair than she cared to count.

"And I'm marrying a woman," the Captain said aloud. "There! I said it." She crinkled her nose at the reflection in the mirror.

Janeway wondered what her parents would have said. Her father had been dead a number of years and she would never know his thoughts. But if she ever returned to the Alpha Quadrant or to Ironside Farm where her mother lived, Kathryn wasn't entirely sure that her traditional mother would support an unconventional choice for her life mate.

She finally realized something about the last few weeks and about herself. She'd been putting Seven off and hiding their relationship for more than one reason. Oh, yes, the crew had been unreasonable and she would make the same choice regarding that again. But there was more and Janeway had to face the fear of rejection.

"Silly fears," she told her reflection. Many crewmembers sacrificed their own replicator rations for the rings. She felt them in the one pant pocket. Furthermore, the thought of Gretchen Janeway's disapproval still gnawed at her core. "But I'm seventy light years from home," she shouted. It was a thought both comforting and tortuous. "I'm ridiculous."

Janeway looked down at the jade phallus protruding from the thatch of auburn hair. "I really, really am," she said. She was surprised to find that the texture of it had softened, feeling nearly flesh-like. Kathryn curled her fingers along the erect shaft and gingerly pulled the pants over it.

Damn it! The dildo was announcing itself, making a generous tent in the fabric. She shoved the pants down and began to reposition the device. It required her to loosen the belt straps, adjusting it lower. It was not entirely comfortable. But nothing was going to keep her from a rendezvous with Seven of Nine.

Satisfied that she appeared to be normal, at least to mortal eyes, Janeway tied the blouse belts and pant sashes around her as gracefully as she could. "As long as my pants don't drop, I'm good," she said.

Then she stepped out of the room, hearing the grinding of stone on stone as it closed.

Tom Paris stood in the dim corridor, balancing a long spear to one side. It was taller than Janeway and decorated with teal feathers and yellow beads hanging from the flint.

Tom smiled at her and she saw it then. The smallest glance downward to the apex of her legs. "I'm warning you, Tom," she hissed.

"Sorry," he said. "I couldn't help it." He held out the spear. "This is yours, Dagecki."

She frowned, catching the javelin in one hand as it fell toward her. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"It's part of your regalia for your procession."

"Procession? That's what the bride is supposed to do."

"Not here," he said. "Here it's the—" Tom beat his chest a once with his fist. "…The Great Warrior who walks the aisle and honors us with her presence."

Janeway lowered her head, scratching her furrowed brow. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Tom clapped her shoulder blade. "Oh, we all feel this way when we get married. The wife isn't called the 'old ball and chain' for nothing."

"I'm a wife, too," Janeway pointed out matter-of-factly.

"And Tuvok is probably having the same conversation with Seven." Tom urged her gently in a direction that he now knew well.

"Oh, I seriously doubt that," she said watching as they ascended a spiral staircase made of hewn rock.

"You're right," Tom admitted. "Tuvok is probably offering Seven some dry Vulcan aphorisms about how wise it is to have pon farr only once in five years."

"You are incorrigible, did you know that?"

"So I've heard." At the top of the stairs, Tom turned to her before he pressed pushed the large stone door. "Tuvok did ask me to tell you that the ship is adequately staffed. I'm not a cryptologist, but I think he means Chakotay can't just run off."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said dryly.

"You're welcome. And one tiny little thing."

"What?" she snapped, her patience worn thin from the fatigue.

"Seven said she spoke with your daughter, who was worried, by the way."

Janeway flushed. Damn, she didn't even think to contact her. "Dani," she murmured. "How could I forget my own daughter?" Janeway slapped her own thigh. "God!"

Tom playfully tapped her shoulder with a loose fist. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Captain," he said. "You've been overwhelmed."

Janeway's expression softened. "Thank you, Tom. I'm sure you're right."

"Besides," he said, pulling down his Starfleet tunic. "I'm sure you'll screw up a lot more during her teen years. Today won't even be a blip on the old psychological radar."

She gave a sarcastic smile. "How comforting."

Tom rubbed his hands together and glanced at the door. "So are you ready, Kathryn?"

Looking at the stone door entrance, she smiled as if she could see Seven waiting for her on the other side. "Oh, yes. I've never been more ready in all my life."

Impulsively, Tom kissed her cheek. "Thanks for letting me share in this moment with you."

He didn't wait for her reply. Tom Paris shoved through the stone door. It scraped as it slide open.

=/\=

Captain Janeway gulped when she emerged from the smaller pyramid where she'd prepared for the ceremony. A dusty road that stretched in front of her was the width of two Voyagers and it was brimming with a sea of dark-haired, bare-skinned Boolarai.

At the sight of her, they burst into a thunderous cheer. The echo of it rattled up to the cloudless sky tinted pale blue by a setting sun.

"Wow," she said, as she descended a few steps to reach the road that would take them to a magnificent stone pyramid at the center of the capital city.

As she began her pilgrimage to the Temple of Fertility, the natives reached out to her. Janeway could feel them briefly caressing her. Each touch was reverent and earnest. She smacked a few unwelcome hands from her chest and rear, but for the most part, the people were respectful.

"What are they saying?" she shouted into Tom's ear.

"Sounds like 'dagecki samba' to me. Maybe they want you to dance."

She chuckled, glad for the distraction as she waved, feeling a little dizzy from the excitement. Janeway rubbed her belly, wishing she'd thought ahead enough to ask her Tenzai for a bite to eat before the festivities.

=/\=

As they neared the foot of the main temple at the other end, the sea of natives started to give way to Starfleet black, mixed with red, blue, gold and green. Captain Janeway was touched to see that some of her crew had requested—and been granted—shore leave to witness the ritual. She warmed to see Ensign Samantha Wildman, with Naomi at her elbow.

She startled to see a chubby, dark-haired child in her arms. He was flailing his sausage arms and drooling profusely onto Ensign Wildman's collar. The two-day old child looked closer to six months, but he could be none other than Sam and Chakotay's son. His obsidian eyes and straight dark hair looked to be at home on Boolarai, except for his milky white skin.

Janeway paused to lean into Samantha's ear. "Is this the baby?"

She pulled back, nodding joyfully at the boy, who cooed and tried to stuff his fingers into his mother's mouth. Samantha raised the boy's elbow and waved to the Captain. "He looks marvelous, doesn't he?"

"Oh, yes," Janeway said in a daze. But it came out soundless compared to the constant cheers of "Dagecki samba" with a few Starfleet "hoo-rahs" added for good measure.

She squeezed Naomi's shoulder in recognition, offering her a wink. Janeway smiled brightly when Naomi wrapped herself around the Captain. "Tell Seven congratulations," she shouted.

Janeway brushed a few bangs to the side. "I will," she said and nodded for emphasis. _Yes_, the Captain told herself. _I'd underestimated my crew. All of them. _

After waving to the last crewman, Captain Janeway came to stop at the foot of the steep stone pyramid, looking up to see the shimmer of a mirage. It was going to be a long climb with no handrails toward the crown of the stone temple. The Temple of Fertility was a simple stone building with four columns, one at each corner and a stone roof. As they moved closer, the pair could see the ornate scenes of Boolarai life depicted there.

"Looks like that temple is about a thousand kilometers away," Tom said, stepping beside her lightly.

"Piece of cake," she said, nodding to it.

"My back doesn't think so," he replied dryly. "But then again, I'm not the one climbing to see my bride."

The Captain's lips curled ever so slightly as she squinted at the summit of her journey. "Seven _is_ my bride," she whispered. "At last."

"What did you say, Captain?" Tom shouted.

"Let's move," she said in full command mode.

=/\=

Earlier, Seven of Nine and Lt. Commander Tuvok followed two Boolarai women through a dark, labyrinthine maze of hewn granite. Her human senses picked up nothing out of the ordinary: the earthy scent of the stone structure was expected; and stygian darkness greeted them around every turn. But her Borg ocular implant gathered every last photon of light, giving her artificial sight an eerie green cast. She knew they passed many corridors and other "rooms," all empty.

It was inconsequential to her that they were descending deep into the planet's crust. Or that the two women watched her warily, whispering among themselves about the "Impossible Ones," whom the gods had vanquished. None of it mattered as long as they took her to be with Kathryn, as long as the local authorities spoke the proper formula that would unite them together for infinity.

Finally the older woman stopped, swinging the torch wide. "This is the room," she said, gesturing it. The torchlight hissed as she motioned them all in. Tuvok entered, standing close to the door and the source of light. The younger Boolarai woman stepped around the wall of Borg that blocked the entrance.

Finally, the older woman gestured again. Her long white hair seemed to glow. Seven took one half step forward and searched the room. There was a large wooden pallet, bereft of mattress and bedding. A small table was pushed up to one side, bracketed by two wooden chairs. There was a large wooden box on top of the table. Otherwise it was empty.

"Captain Janeway is not here," she finally said, pulling back to regard the older woman.

"That is true," she said, looking at tall woman curiously.

Seven waited for the woman to elaborate. When she did not, she spun on her heels and began the long trek back up toward the service, using her perfect memory as a guide.

The Boolarai woman shrieked and ran behind Seven. "You must enter the room, wanamaukay!"

"Why?" she asked, maintaining the long strident steps on her march back.

"You must prepare for the wedding."

"I am prepared," she said.

"How must she prepare?" As Seven expected, Tuvok was keeping pace with both woman.

"She must dress appropriately," the woman said. "With fragrant leialo orchid blossoms laced in your hair and precious gemstones applied to your skin. She must be perfumed, prepared for her mate."

"I do not require the reproductive structures of vegetation nor polished minerals to drape my body. I only require Captain Janeway."

The woman glared over her shoulder at Tuvok, but the speed of their march kept her from speaking.

"Halt, Seven," Tuvok finally ordered.

Seven stopped, the Boolarai woman nearly torching her biosuit before averting a collision.

Tuvok stepped around. "Seven, you are acting irrational," he said.

"I have wanted to marry Captain Janeway since the first time we copulated, that being seven months, nine days, thirteen hours and twenty-three-point-two minutes ago. Captain Janeway has agreed. I must seize the opportunity before she changes her mind."

Tuvok flicked an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic emotion playing across the young Borg's face. He tipped his head at her. "Seven," he said in a soothing voice. "Ceremonies of this magnitude, while lavish, are not futile. But they require certain steps. The union of two people is older than even the Borg. You must respect it."

"Pomp is irrelevant," she said.

"But your Captain," the older woman cooed, "she will find you most _appealing_."

Seven of Nine could not quell the glint of desire, something she found most disconcerting. She was Borg, slave to no one or thing, much less insipid finery and lace. But the thought of pleasing Kathryn forced her lips to curl.

"Yes, that is what I require."

=/\=

Captain Janeway and Lt. Paris reached the pinnacle of the pyramid, greeted by a brilliant setting sun that washed the entire portico in a sea of gold. Purple plumage on bare dark skin danced in the gentle breeze.

"I haven't seen so much purple since that Klingon bloodletting on the holodeck that one time," Tom whispered.

Janeway's mild rebuke was drowned out by a throng of Boolarai, festooned in the purpurescent shade on their spears and ankle bracelets. The Universal Translator garbled their cheers and Janeway wondered if perhaps the device needed servicing or memory upgrades.

She searched through the loud crowd, disappointed that her bride was not already among them. But she caught a glimpse of the white-haired Chief Minister Svante in ornately decorated buckskin pants and a thick chain of gold, inscribed with intricate glyphs. Beside him stood the Boolarai King, Genshu. He was draped in jaguar skins and small, golden hoop rings pierced his lower lip in a neat row.

Beside the King stood the regal figure of the Chief Medical Officer. He lifted his holographic hand to eye level, wiggling his fingers as way of greeting the Captain. With the other hand he parried a holocamera.

"Terrific," Janeway thought. But she'd been the one to request him. He was the official whose witness would be required to make this ceremony legal and binding in Federation Space.

Svante whispered something to a stocky, muscled guard, who cleared a path roughly for the Captain and her Tenzai. As they made their way toward the center of the portico, a knot of natives opened behind Svante's right shoulder to reveal Seven of Nine. Janeway inhaled sharply. Her heart rattled her rib cage and stomach lurched around. She swallowed hard at the sight of the tall Borg.

Seven's blonde hair was braided up behind her in a bowl, with wavy wisps caressing her cheeks. Flowers with long, slender white pedals adorned the crown of her head. Her eyes were outlined in a purple liner, making her eyes nearly laser like. Her stained red lips were slightly quirked.

Their eyes met when Seven came to stand beside Svante. The Captain squinted from the diamonds circling Seven's forehead, glinting in the setting sun. Seven returned an amused expression, with an eyebrow lift. Janeway opened her mouth, but the words warbled in her throat.

Janeway noted the faintest bit of scarlet touching Seven's skin. Only when the Captain tore her eyes from the beautiful face did she see why. Seven's wedding dress was a sheer netting of fabric. Kathryn swallowed hard to see that her lover's coral-tipped breasts were as plain as day, decorated with red and green gems around her areolas. Her stomach was also bejeweled, toward her…_Oh, my_! Janeway blushed at the faint dark blonde triangle that she could just make out.

Seven was barefoot and standing on a bed of purple and yellow petals. At first glance, it appeared her ankles and wrists were adorned with purple and black beads. But on second glance, they were tied together as if she were a bound prisoner.

Janeway felt her heart harden and the internal amour slam down. She stepped forward, lifting Seven's bound wrists up by the beaded manacle. "What is this?"

Svante gasped, taking Janeway's hand away from the other bride. "Chains of love," he hissed.

He took Janeway's shoulders and gently pushed her off the petals, watching her boots as he did. Janeway tried to reach for Seven's hand, but a large, white haired Boolarai woman smacked the Captain's hand down unceremoniously.

At the rude gesture, Seven of Nine's eyes went wide and she grabbed the old crone's thick wrist with her Borg hand.

"It's okay, Seven," Janeway said in a hoarse voice. "I just don't know the rules."

Seven nodded once and relinquished her arm. The old woman glared at both women as she rubbed her wrist.

"You look lovely," Janeway said, over the intonations of some Boolarai formalities.

Svante himself presided over the ceremony, clearing this throat loudly to bring Janeway's attention back to the center. "Dagecki Kon," he said, bowing to Janeway. "The gods have showered you with victory on the field on honor."

That wasn't the way the Captain remembered the grueling forty-five minute match, but then maybe she didn't notice being _handed _anything.

"Now the great god, Kwotal, has seen fit to reward you with a beautiful wife…."

Janeway chanced a tight smile at Seven, who returned what outsiders would perceive as a resigned look. But Kathryn knew it was a glorious expression of her joy, no matter how faint it appeared.

Svante took a handful of black earth and sprinkled some behind him, and then to each side. Then he surprised Janeway and Seven by sprinkling some on their shoulders. "With land…."

Janeway saw a flash and knew the Doctor was taking snapshots. She hoped he kept it to a minimum.

Then the minister took a large copper vase and spilled water in the four directions. "And with sea…"

He dipped his hand inside the vase. Then he flicked his wet fingers at Janeway, droplets raining down on her face. After jumping slightly, she blinked furiously, willing her hands to remain by her side. He did the same to Seven.

The man took red feathers and puffed them this way and that. When he turned to Janeway, she closed her eyes and held her breath. She felt the light wispy touches across her cheeks. She opened her eyes to see the man blow feathers into Seven's lovely face.

At the first touch of feathers, Seven's lips curled. Janeway was so charmed by her reaction she almost laughed out loud. She made a mental note to get one of those feathers to keep.

"And with air…." Svante said.

Then the Chief Minister took tongs and reached into a fire pit before them. A smoldering red rock was extracted and held up.

"Oh, boy," Janeway muttered under her breath. It was too low for anyone but the Borg-enhanced hearing of her soon-to-be wife. Seven turned millimeter by millimeter until they were eye to eye. To Seven's raised eyebrow, Janeway raised her own in playful mimicry.

To Janeway's relief, Svante sprinkled ash from the hot rock in the four directions until he replaced the tongs in the pit. But her eyes widened when he withdrew an iron rod with a circular brand that sizzled. He raised it slightly and smiled, wiggling his fingers for Janeway's hand.

She swallowed hard. "I don't think so," she replied with more bravado than she felt. "We aren't cattle, Svante."

He tipped his head to the side. "But it is our way," he replied.

"No branding," she said, with a swipe of a hand.

He blinked for a few seconds, speaking to one of the officials, who departed soon after. "Then we must wait."

Janeway chanced a glance at Seven. "I'm sorry, darling."

"Do not apologize," she whispered. "I am grateful that you took command of the situation."

Janeway couldn't help it, so she smothered her laugh in the palm of her hand.

"Is that humorous?"

"When you consider how often you defy my orders, I'd say yes, it's pretty ironic."

The official returned huffing. He handed a blue feather quill with a sharpened tip to Svante, who flourished it before Janeway. "You must be marked for eternity."

She quirked a single corner of her mouth. "I always wanted a tattoo."

Svante grabbed her left hand within his meaty fingers and drew the sharpened quill to the plumb flesh of her thumb. Janeway expected a tickle. What she got was a series of sharp stabs that were anything but delightful. By the time Svante had etched a blue circle on her palm, Janeway's bottom lip was white between her own teeth.

He turned to Seven, who offered her Borg appendage. She nearly yawned when Svante began to etch the circle of eternity there.

"Cheater," Janeway muttered, as she held a white cloth to the bleeding image.

"Many times cheating is more efficient," Seven replied. "And less painful."

Janeway couldn't help it. Her smile split her face and she shook her head. This wonder, this stunning woman would be her bride. Whatever luck or fortunate or good omen that brought them together, Janeway felt filled to the brim. She promised herself that she would venerate Seven every day of their life together.

Svante raised his arms to the heavens. "With earth and sea, wind and fire, we call on thee great Kwotal to bless the union of Dagecki Jane…way and his _wanamaukay _Seven of Nine."

_His?_ Janeway thought. _Oh, that's right. I'm fooling the gods._

Svante flapped his arms, trying to get the two women to merge together. "Closer, Dagecki," he said. "You must stand next to your wanamaukay on the petals."

"With pleasure," she said, stepping beside Seven. Several more snapshots were taken, though by this time Janeway had lost count.

Seven slipped her tied wrists around Kathryn, who clumsily worked the spear to encircle the taller woman also. Without looking anywhere but Seven's bejeweled face, Janeway asked: "Can I kiss her yet?"

"No!" Svante shouted. "It is bad luck. You must wait."

Janeway nodded, keeping the acerbic reply to herself. Two priests raised a golden rope to the sky as Svante ran his heavily decorated spear tip over it. Then the two priests began to enclose the two women with the lariat. After the first turn, they pushed the women closer and cinched the rope. Then they continued to circle the pair, murmuring some unintelligible comments that the universal translator could not decipher.

"Well, this is symbolic." Janeway's lips hovered near Seven's ear and she could feel her breasts push into her chest.

"Symbolic of what?" Seven's voice was just as soft and it sent a shiver down Janeway's spine. "Being bound like criminals and sentenced for life?"

"Well, not the criminals part—"

"Dagecki!" Svante shouted. "Hush now!"

"Merely the sentenced for life?" Seven asked with wry amusement.

"Shhh!" Svante hissed

Janeway shivered again, feeling Seven's breath like hot puffs on her neck. She looked up to give Seven a crooked grin. The Captain tried to shrug playfully, but any movement only tightened the rope around them. "For life," she whispered as Svante sprinkled more water on them.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted into an uproarious cheer of "cree!" followed.

"Now can I kiss my wanamaukay?" From the sharp angle up, Janeway could see the twinkle of amusement that leapt from Seven and Janeway was so delighted she winked at her intended.

"No!" Svante shouted.

"I wonder what he would do if you kissed me?" Seven whispered.

Janeway demurred. "You enjoy pushing the limits. And it's fun when I can be on this side with you."

She felt Seven tighten her arms and wiggle her fingers along her back in response. "It is fun for me as well."

As Svante signaled a brawny fellow by a square pillar, Seven tipped her head. Her lips searched for the Captain's. They were nearly joined when the pair lurched toward each other. The pedestal on which they stood began to descend. Stone was scrapping stone as they slowly submerged. "I don't like this!" Janeway shouted.

"It will bring wisdom!" Svante called back.

The last thing the couple saw was the Doctor peering over the edge, with a camera in hand. He flashed another a shot.

=/\=

Janeway and Seven lifted their heads, watching as a round block began to slowly eclipse the opening through which they'd just come. Then they were enveloped in a darkness so thick they couldn't even see each other. "Now what?" Janeway asked. The question echoed around the room.

Seven twisted her head, catching enough light in her ocular implant to cast a eerie green hue on her surroundings. She quickly identified the place. This was her preparation chamber. The large wooden shell of a bed was neatly made in the center of the room. Thick bearskins draped the plush bedding. Beside it was a small table bedecked with fruit and strips of meat, as well as a pitcher of liquid that beaded condensation.

Seven felt her new wife wiggle uncomfortably. "We are safe, Kathryn," she said.

"Can you tell where we are?"

"We are in a small bedroom chamber," she replied. "I was prepared for the ceremony here."

Despite the predicament, Janeway threw her head back. The deep laughter rumbled against Seven's chest.

"I think I should have asked more questions about this wedding ceremony."

"Indeed," Seven replied, near Janeway's ear.

"So now what?"

Janeway's breath hitched when she felt Seven's wriggling against her, the friction doing its work to ignite fires better left untended at this moment. "What are you doing?" she asked, a little breathless.

"I am not attempting to stimulate—what is this?" Seven's hand suggestively slipped up and down the erect phallus.

Janeway cleared her throat, but Seven still heard the smallest moan before she stifled it.

"I thought you weren't trying to stimulate me? That's pretty close to the—"

Seven shredded the rope and their clothes in seventy-five-point-two seconds. Then her hands searched Janeway's body, primarily for any injuries. Finding none, she stroked between the woman's legs with a single swipe of a finger. Despite the harness that held the phallus in place, Seven sensed copious moisture.

A long moan vibrated against Seven's neck. A gravelly "Oh, darling" was whispered near her ear.

"What is that?" Seven asked. The ex Borg had managed to rub the stiff protrusion against the Captain.

"Long story," she said. "It was part of—"

The explanation was swallowed in a full-mouthed kiss. Seven's tongue asserted itself inside of Kathryn's mouth, swirling and exploring in urgent familiarity.

Seven could hear Janeway's rapid breaths and her heart rate had increased substantially. It had been only a few days since they'd made love. But it was what the pair called "ship sex." While satisfactory, it had been hurried and quiet.

Feeling her own sexual response peaking, Seven swept Kathryn into her arms. "Seven?" she shrieked.

Before the woman could protest again, Seven's unruly tongue twisted past surprised lips. The heat licking off of Janeway's body was edging up Seven's own internal combustion. She hurriedly carried her partner to the edge of the bed, dropping her to her feet.

Kathryn broke off, panting. "Let me take this thing…" A hand darted down between their bodies, but it was intercepted by an insistent Borg.

"No," Seven whispered before her open mouth descended on Kathryn's surprised one. Seven savored Kathryn's moan and the arching of her body against her. She flicked her thumbs over her nipples appreciatively before pulling away from the molten kiss.

Then Seven took the Captain's face between her hands and kissed her again. Seven's searing tongue twined around Kathryn's, merging breath and heat and moisture. She gently waltzed her back until the back of Kathryn's knees touched the bed.

Seven slipped her lips along the strong chin, nipping her way down even as she cradled Kathryn's fall. On the bed, Kathryn lay prone. In the green haze of her vision, Seven could see the twisting shadows that crowned her sex and an indifferent tool at full alert. But Seven could see what was underneath; she could always see what was underneath. The plump lips glistened in keen voracity.

She could see Kathryn's eyes closed but felt her soft hands track Seven's shoulders as she gingerly crawled along her length. Her hands made the journey at a more leisurely pace and circled around the tawny areola. "Seven," Kathryn whispered.

"My Kathryn," she replied with the same urgency. Then she tasted the nipple with the lightest flick of a tongue.

Kathryn arched into the touch and slipped her fingers through Seven's hair. Petals fluttered out along her chest, tickling and titillating all at once. "Feels so good, darling."

Seven's sucked her hard, drawing purring as from a warp engine. But even as she revved Kathryn's engines higher, the Borg recognized that her own systems were already at full throttle. Her patience and endurance exhausted, Seven pulled out another surprise move. She tumbled over, taking Kathryn with her to reverse their positions. Kathryn squeaked when she found herself on top of and between Seven's thighs. "Seven, all you had to do was ask, you know."

"Adjust yourself," Seven ordered.

The Borg caught the seductive smirk on Kathryn's lips as she to her knees. "Considering how impatient you are, a light would let me remove—"

"Unacceptable," Seven declared. "Adjust it for me."

Kathryn dropped her arms and stared down at the blackness of the bed. "You like it?"

"Yes," Seven whispered, surging up to kiss a breast and swipe a finger along the strap ran along the woman's seam. "On you, yes."

Kathryn's rakish smirk returned and she raised a leg and began to fumble with the leather harness. She cursed a few times after losing her grip on the fasteners. "My hands are shaking," she admitted with a laugh. "We've made love a hundred times and my hands are actually shaking."

"Not like before," Seven said. She circled Kathryn's hands. "Allow me." In the dark, Seven leaned up and kissed Kathryn's lips that puckered a half beat too late.

Seven worked quickly to tighten and adjust the phallus to an efficient angle, but looked up briefly when Kathryn laughed.

"I think you like this darkness and I think I know why."

"Darkness is deceptive," she replied as she worked tenderly. "I have the resources to utilize the available photons no matter how scarce," she said.

"Yup," she replied. "I believe this is called 'taking advantage.'"

Kathryn's eyes were crinkled and her lips drawn in a crooked smile of affection. Seven kissed the strong chin looming over her and then smacked the woman's bare bottom. Kathryn yelped a protest, but was kept off balance when Seven pulled her down.

The dildo was pressed against Seven's thigh.

"Touch me." Seven's ragged voice surprised even her. The Borg knew it was both need and lust and love and longing, all coiled up together inside of her.

Seven watched the usually graceful Kathryn Janeway fumble inelegantly, cursing the darkness with a well-chosen swear word. "I'm sorry, darling," she whispered. "I really wanted our first time together as a married couple to be slow and beautiful in a bed surrounded by candles."

Seven leaned up, fingertips gliding up and down Kathryn's back. Seven nibbled her lips and then cupped an ear. "You are wondrous and stunning and I adore you." She punctuated each description with a kiss. "And I want this with you."

"But…"

"Shhh," Seven whispered, helping Kathryn settle the cock poised at her opening. Slowly, the Captain rocked forward, supporting her weight on an arm to either side of the Borg. Her own gasps were strangled by Seven's low grunt as it slipped into her. Her moans were long and musical, something Kathryn had never heard before.

Long legs wrapped around Kathryn and it was Seven who orchestrated their lovemaking. With each glide in, Janeway cried out when the blunt end of the cock bumped against her swollen clit. The wooden bed squeaked in protest under the quaking onslaught.

Seven could hear her own pants mingle with the Captain's. She was grinding into the woman on every downward stroke. Seven threw her head back, reveling in the sounds and feel and smells of being here with this woman, her wife, her partner. She had never worked so hard to catalog every nuance, every instant for her memory.

Their rhythm quickened, faster and faster until Seven felt the tight coil explode from her core in concentric rings of brilliant color. Her own orgasm was sweetened when Kathryn's loud, raspy cries of release ripped out a second later.

"Oh, my love," Kathryn whispered as she settled down on top of Seven. She was panting and sweaty and so very tired.

Seven held Kathryn until she returned to herself, kissing her tenderly. "You may now unimpale me," Seven reported.

Kathryn chuckled as she gingerly pulled out and fell back. "I don't think that's a word," she replied with a humorous lilt.

Seven kissed Kathryn's shoulders and jumped out of bed, its wooden frame squeaking again. Seven turned on the Starfleet flashlight aiming it directly at Kathryn.

She slammed her eyes shut and covered them with a blanket. "Ouch!" she whispered.

"I apologize, Kathryn," she said. She swung the light around as she poured water into two cups and balanced them gingerly on a wooden tray already brimming with fruit. Only when she had slipped the tray between them and laid down did Kathryn peek out.

A shaft of light rise like a column from between them. Seven had managed to wedge the device between the bed and rock wall.

Kathryn dropped the phallus and harness beside the bed and then turned her attention to the fruit. "Those look like…" Kathryn popped a small yellow fruit into her mouth and moaned through the bite. "They are! They're pineapples! They're so sweet!"

Seven finally stopped eating, in favor of watching Kathryn achieve a culinary orgasm.

With a slice of pineapple poised at her mouth and juice skimming down her chin, Kathryn stopped. "What?"

Seven daubed the juice with a cloth. She leaned in, savoring the fruity taste with a tongue swipe over her full lips. "It is…agreeable."

Kathryn threw her head back to drink in the water that Seven had brought. When she'd finished, her chest was moist, her cup was empty and Seven of Nine eyes twinkled with amusement.

"I was thirsty," she said. "It's hard work saving you from life as a chair."

"The Boolarai customs are indeed developmentally arrested," Seven said.

Kathryn finally looked around at the room. "I'm just glad we didn't find a gaggle of women trying to serve as our bed."

"That would have been intolerable."

Kathryn looked down at the plate, her eyes squinting at brown spheres. She took one between a finger and thumb, raising it to the light. "These are peanuts!"

She munched on, letting her eyes roll back in her head. "How do you suppose these Boolarai came to have pineapples and peanuts?" Kathryn mumbled around her food.

"They are from earth."

Kathryn stopped chewing and snapped her eyes open. "The food or the people?"

"Both," Seven replied matter-of-factly. "The Doctor mentioned the cell markers when he checked on me during my preparation."

"Does he know if they were a recent offshoot?"

"Based on mitochondrial DNA mutations, he calculated it to have been several thousand years ago."

After Kathryn had finished the peanuts, she paused to look at Seven. "You looked so lovely today," she replied. She trailed the back of a finger along the gemstone trail around her breasts. "So lovely."

Seven peered down, watching as if the touch did not excite her. "I feared you may have found their customs crude and their finery garish."

Kathryn took the nearly empty tray and set it next to a table beside her. She laid down next to Seven, combing the woman's hair with her fingers. "You were so lovely, I was even glad the Doctor was able to take some holopictures."

Seven smiled softly. "Tuvok took some of me as well."

"He did?" Kathryn's voice was uneven and Seven studied her before replying.

"Yes, was that acceptable?"

Kathryn's smile seemed forced. "Of course," she said hesitantly. Then: "Of course! It is our wedding day after all, darling." Kathryn rubbed the woman's eyebrow with a thumb.

"Are you happy?"

Seven nodded. "I did not realize I could be this content. It is gratifying to be married."

The Captain pecked Seven's lips lightly. "Oh, there's a whole lot more gratification to come, my dear, lovely Borg," she said.

Seven pushed Kathryn to her back and kissed her neck. "You are correct," she whispered against the salty skin. Kathryn opened her legs to a hand that snaked down. "I desire to show my gratitude to me champion…" Seven swiped Kathryn's sopping lips.

"Oh, Seven," Kathryn whispered, leaning back and encircling Seven's shoulders. "Gratitude and gratification go so well together."

=/\=

Kathryn tasted her own mouth. It was am exquisite flavor, essence of Borg. But she was thirsty and so tired. She lifted her head, but the cool darkness lulled her back down against the length of warm Borg.

She nuzzled Seven's neck and laid an arm across the taut middle, feeling the familiar edge of an implant against her elbow. Janeway covered Seven's thigh with hers and nearly drifted off to sleep again when she heard a dull thump at the door.

She lifted her head. Hearing nothing more, she nestled back in.

"It is Commander Tuvok," Seven said.

"How do you know that?" she mumbled against a shoulder.

"My Borg enhanced hearing."

"Ah, I should have known. I suppose our communicators don't work in here."

"That is correct," Seven said, turning slightly to roll Kathryn off. She kissed the woman's forehead. The Boolarai bed creaked when Seven rose from it. "I am turning the light on, Pips."

Janeway blinked and covered her face with an arm. "Thanks for the fair warning," she whispered.

"Do you know where the exit is?"

"No, I don't think I've ever been here before."

Seven waved the flashlight so fast along the seams and center of the room that Janeway became dizzy. "Can you really see like that?"

"Like what?"

"The light is making me sick with the motion."

"Ah," Seven said. "It is because you are merely human, whereas I am—"

"—Borg. How could I _possibly_ forget?" Janeway said playfully. "I think you like pointing out my frailties."

"Not at all," she replied. With a suggestive hint of a smile, Seven added over her shoulder: "I prefer to lick your frailties."

"Oh, Seven," Kathryn whispered, throwing herself back on the bed. "Come back to bed and…."

Seven touched a pebble control and the large stone door began to slide away. Light shot in around the Borg's tall and naked figure. "Commander Tuvok," she said.

Janeway gasped as she watched her wife speak casually to the Vulcan as if she were cavorting on the holodeck. Tuvok whispered briefly with Seven and handed her a lit torch before she returned to stand beside the bed.

"Did you just answer the door stark raving naked?" Kathryn asked, sitting up. Her eyes were wide and a disconcerting crack in her voice revealed itself.

Seven looked down at her bejeweled and unclothed form. "My Tenzai has seen me in this state of undress during the preparation."

"He did?"

"Of course," she said. "While the women fastened the gems to my bare skin."

"And he…he didn't mind?"

"He is Vulcan, Kathryn. He was not aroused nor ashamed." Seven tipped her head. "Did Lieutenant Paris not witness your nudity when you—"

"God, no! Even thinking that gives me a headache," Janeway said. She rested her chin on a knee as she looked up at Seven thoughtfully. The tall Borg stood patiently by the bed. The jewels around her breasts and down her taut stomach glistened, along with her Borg implants.

Janeway crawled across the mattress to take a hand. She kissed the woman's knuckles. "Promise me you'll save your beautiful nudity for my eyes only. Even if someone wouldn't be aroused or ashamed."

Seven flicked an eyebrow. "Of course," she said. "If that is what you wish."

"It is," she replied. "What did he want?"

"Evidently, our presence is required at the reception," Seven replied.

"Reception?" Kathryn said, closing her eyes in profound disappointment.

"Yes, many of the crew are sitting at empty tables because the Boolarai refuse to serve them a meal before we arrive. Tuvok said the duty shifts are due to start in one hour and many must return to the ship without a meal unless we—"

Janeway jumped from the bed, despite the exhaustion. "Let's wash and get dressed," she said.

Seven lit the torches in the room in quick succession, replacing the fifth in an empty wall mount. She turned and offered Kathryn a Starfleet duffel bag. "From Tenzai Tuvok," she stated. "It contains civilian uniforms."

Kathryn looked relieved to pull out a white linen button up shirt that she favored. "Good ol' Tuvok," she whispered.

As Seven poured water from a pitcher into a basin, Kathryn looked down at the ribbons that had once been their wedding attire. "Uh oh," she replied. "I forgot there were rings in those pants."

Seven picked up two golden circles that glinted in the dance of torchlight. "I found these as I worked," she replied. Seven inspected one and then the other. She looked up with a curious expression on her face. "Did you commission these?"

Janeway inhaled. "No, I didn't. Tom and some of the crew pooled their replicator rations as a gift. But I have a feeling Tom was behind the inscription. What do they read?"

She held one circle up between an index finger and thumb. "This one must be mine as it reads: 'You'll always be my One of Two. Love, Pips.'"

Janeway gave a half hearted chuckle, more of a mercy smile. She scratched her head and took the ring, kissing the fingers that yielded it. "Tom means well," she said.

Seven looked down at Janeway's open hand, laying her own. Even after their raucous lovemaking, that simple palm on palm touch was electric and Seven closed her eyes momentarily.

"Today is the happiest day of my life," Janeway said, her eyes jumping between Seven's twinkling pools of blue. "Thank you letting me love you and I promise to make our life together as happy as I can."

Seven followed Janeway's fingers intently as she slipped the ring on her left. "Kathryn," she whispered. "I do not know the protocol, but…" She looked up hesitantly, a faint glimmer of anxiety threatening the contentment.

Janeway became concerned, drawing close and resting her palm along the elegant line of her neck. "What's the matter? Having regrets already?"

"No! Kathryn, no! I—"

Kathryn's thumb swiped the woman's mouth. "I was joking, darling. It was a bad joke. I'm sorry."

"No, I.."

"It's okay, Seven," Kathryn whispered, her lips hovering close to Seven's. It was more in comfort. "Please tell me."

"Would it be acceptable to wear the wedding ring on my right hand?"

"The right?"

"Yes," Seven replied as she looked down at her natural appendage. "I want your ring next to my own skin and not suspended on a Borg facsimile."

"Oh, darling! Yes, yes, yes!" She punctuated each word with a kiss. "What a perfect alteration!"

Seven smiled, as she placed the ring on her right. She held it at arm's length, tipping her hand to let the ring catch the light. "We must thank Tom and the crew."

"Oh, yes, we will. So what does mine say, darling?"

Seven retrieved the other ring and held it up to her eyes. "We'll always ride together. Love, The Deputy."

Kathryn threw her head back and laughed loudly. Seven's confusion only fueled more mirth. "Oh, dear," she heaved.

"Was that intended to be humorous?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"But we do not ride. We traverse space." Seven shook her head. "It is a flawed metaphor."

"Its flaw is the humor, my love. Tom was trying to evoke an image of you from the old American West of earth history."

Seven paused. "I am not familiar with that era."

"Lawmen then wore silver stars and cowboy hats. They strapped guns and walked like they owned the whole damn frontier."

"Chaps?" Seven shook her head. "I find the imagery crude."

Janeway's eyes glazed over, imagination finding Seven as a peace keeper in a dusty town.

"It appears you have a fondness for the symbols."

Janeway held out her left hand. "Please slip it on, Seven." Then she pulled her hand back. "Is it all right if I wear my wedding band on the left?"

"Of course," she replied, reaching for Kathryn's left hand. "It is your own hand. It is quite apropos."

She slid the ring along the dainty finger and then pecked Janeway's lips.

The Captain kissed back, lingering longer even as a hand cupped the back of Seven's head. When she tugged away, Seven surged forward capturing the lips in another heated exchange.

Seven's hands began to rub the Captain's bare back. "Darling," Kathryn panted around a persistent Borg tongue. "We're never…going to get out…" She became lost in the sensations of Seven's hands kneading her ass cheeks.

"Oh, Seven!" Kathryn's mewling sounds swallowed by Seven's. The Captain managed to tear her mouth away, but Seven's questing mouth found other nips that made Kathryn's legs nearly turn to jelly. "We can't clean up unless we stop touching each other."

Seven stopped abruptly, but it was merely a temporary and logistical reprieve. She shoved Kathryn against the wall, pinning a leg up with a Borg-enhanced arm while a hand explored the wet recesses of the woman.

Then she turned her attention back to the oral discussion. Despite Seven's tongue darting in and out of Kathryn's moaning mouth, she managed to agree. "Correct."

"You…agree…?"

Seven moaned her affirmation, while she sucked Kathryn's tongue, refusing to allow its exit.

Janeway began to sob as she became filled with Seven and covered by Seven. A single thumb on a jumping clit was the final blessing by Seven. An earsplitting cry gushed from a raw throat as a vortex of pleasure and love swept her up.

Janeway blinked from the sweat pouring down her face. She lifted her head to find herself resting on Seven's thigh while her arms clung to her waist. Janeway let her head drop back against the granite slab. "You are incredible."

Seven's look was uncharacteristically smug and none too subtle. "I find my subject matter to be most compelling." She leaned down and kissed Kathryn's forehead. Then she kissed her nose and then finally she kissed her lips.

"We can't," Janeway managed in a hoarse voice.

"We can," she whispered back.

"Yes, we can," Kathryn conceded. "But later." She gently pushed on Seven's shoulders. "You are insatiable."

"Not insatiable," Seven replied, leaning her body gently against Kathryn's, while managing to keep most of her weight on her arms that were planted against the wall. "I merely wish to ensure that you remain mine."

Kathryn smiled sadly. "Seven of Nine," she with a hint of an admonishment. "We're married. It can't get more permanent than that."

"Permanence," Seven whispered. "I will enjoy it."

"Me, too, my darling." Kathryn patted Seven's ass cheek lightly. "Let's get ready. I'm starved."

=/\=

Janeway stepped out, lifting her chin to the breeze, and found Lt. Commander Tuvok waiting for them patiently. "Tuvok," she said. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Seventy point two minutes," Tuvok and Seven replied together.

Janeway felt her ears burn as she thought of what she and Seven had just done on the other side of this wall. She made a mental note to ask Seven the next time she someone was waiting for them so close to their personal space.

In a split second, Kathryn became imperturbable Captain Janeway, letting that discomfiture slip through her fingers.

"We didn't know anyone was waiting on us," she said, sounding breezy. She looked down both torch lit corridors. "Which way, Mister Tuvok?"

"Captain," he said as stretched an arm out in the northerly direction. Tuvok watched the pair pass, and Janeway's affection for the crusty Vulcan multiplied a hundred fold when he did not even regard their hand-holding, as if it were inconsequential to him.

"I believe we may have found more than kinship with the Boolarai," he said.

Janeway was always amazed how he could drop a bomb and act as if it were merely a commentary about the weather patterns.

"Are you referring to their food?" she asked.

"That is correct," he replied. "I was overseeing their reception preparations, as security chief. I became aware of the connection when Ensign Anderson nearly lost consciousness at the sight of chocolate."

Janeway stopped cold. Tuvok nearly rear ended her. "Chocolate?"

"As well as vanilla, corn, sunflowers, potatoes, tomatoes—"

"I understand, Mr. Tuvok," Janeway replied. "But I certainly appreciate your thoroughness."

"In all, the Boolarai possess some approximately seventy-five percent of earth crops, all found in the pre-Columbian cultures of what was called the New World."

"We sampled some of them."

"Sampled is a gross misrepresentation," Seven volunteered. "The Captain achieved nirvana during the consumption of pineapple."

"Don't forget the peanuts," the Captain added mildly.

"Indeed," he replied. "The display of the Boolarai food for the guests have served as a singular torment for those who recognize the organic bounty."

"I think it's definitely something we plan to explore, if the Boolarai are willing," she said. "Maybe we could get some much needed extended shore leave, too."

Just then the trio stepped out into the open. A dark night was back drop to a million million stars. A cool breeze whispered by. The reception area was temple like, with imposing stone pillars lining a roofless terrace.

When the Captain and Seven stepped on the main floor, the Starfleet officers stood up and cheered. Immediately, plumed warriors carrying ornate spears and flags poured into the room, taking up posts on the edges and along the center aisle.

The Captain couldn't help the smile that spread on her face. She waved, nodded and mouthed "thank you." Her hand slipped to the small of Seven's back and she leaned into the woman. "This is quite a welcome," she whispered, knowing that Seven could hear her.

Seven seemed to fall short of a response and merely nodded.

The Boolarai King and his minister Svante emerged at the head table, standing in welcome. "The Great Dagecki has emerged! We will drink to honor his conquest!"

Svante clapped and bare-breasted women in grass skirts poured out carrying bright red fruit and green vegetables and white meats. The lavish spread filled up two three-meter tables.

Just when they thought it was complete, several warriors carried in chunks of ice to set around the perimeter and in big, empty vats. Two priests, covered with tattoos of glyphs, entered carrying large copper urns that they raised toward the king and toward the images of their gods on the colonnades.

Viscous liquid poured over the ice. When the pitchers were empty, Svante clapped his hands madly for the crowd's attention. "We are honored to have the Dagecki and his wife join us!"

The Starfleet officers jumped to their feet again and cheered wildly, bringing a toothy grin to Janeway's face. She glanced haphazardly at Seven. Her eyes were wide in a child-like wonder that never ceased to enchant the Captain. It was one of her most endearing qualities.

Janeway slipped a hand around her wife's waist and pulled her closer. Seven's look of astonishment at her touch nearly made Janeway laugh out loud. Instead she kissed the surprised lips.

"Darling, don't look so startled," the Captain whispered in her wife's ear. "Our guests will think we've never done this before."

"But we have not," she whispered. "You have never fondled me this way in view of the crew."

"And I never will again," she said after a moment's hesitation. "But it's a wedding reception!"

Before Janeway could turn her attention to the continuing ceremony, she found herself tipped back and Seven's mouth over her own. Only when she heard wild hoots and catcalls from the crew, did Seven relinquish the Captain.

It was Janeway's turn to look startled as she wiped her mouth quickly, feeling dizzy from the affectionate display.

"Why did you do that?" she finally asked.

Seven looked as if she had merely turned off her emotions, standing implacable and unreadable with her hands behind her back. She swiveled nonchalantly and with a lift of a brow she answered: "Because you indicated this would be my last opportunity."

Janeway poked Seven's ribs, making the taller woman jerked slightly.

"That was unnecessary, Captain," Seven replied. It was a stern comment to any casual observer. Only Kathryn detected the lace of amusement.

Kathryn threaded their fingers together and smiled at Seven's searching look.

Kathryn caught movement out of the corner of her eye and squeezed Seven's hand and nodded toward the right. Svante and the King greeted each of them with a kiss to the cheek. Svante gestured toward the seated crowd.

The Captain stood a little straighter and pulled down her tunic. She raised a hand until the crowd's ardor subsided. "Thank you," she said. "Seven and I want to thank all of you for being here." She swiveled to the king and tipped her head. "Thank you, Majesty for your kind generosity and for the lovely ceremony."

The King tipped his head and gestured for Svante to speak.

"The King accepts your gratitude," he said.

Janeway turned again toward the crowd, favoring each and every one of the fifty or so crewmembers present. "You will never know just how much this means to Seven and I to have you here on this occasion."

She found Seven's eyes and took her hand. "We are grateful for your friendship and support." She kissed Seven's hand, bringing an exaggerated "ahh" from the Starfleet crowd. The reaction made Janeway blush. "Chow time!"

A line for the food formed quickly. Before Janeway could ask about the Earth food, she watched as a nimble Naomi Wildman ducked and darted through natives and Starfleet alike toward them. Janeway gestured with her chin. "Here comes our first greeting."

Naomi threw herself into Seven of Nine's open arms, wrapping her own around the tall Borg's waist. Seven kissed the top of her head and pulled back, eyeing the girl head to toe. "I believe you have augmented your height," she said.

Naomi looked down at her self. "You think?"

"Yes, I believe so," she said. "Kathryn?"

"Definitely," Kathryn responded.

Naomi finally looked up, stepping close to study Seven's face. "And I think you look happy."

"I am content," Seven replied. "You are very perceptive."

Naomi tipped her head to the side as she turned to regard the Captain. "I don't think I've ever seen the Captain smile."

"Naomi!" Ensign Samantha Wildman managed to wade past the line forming to greet the newlyweds.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Wildman said with a exasperated huff. "But you know kids." She laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder, while holding the baby with the other.

"I do indeed," the Captain replied graciously. "But she's probably right."

Seven gently pinched the baby's fat leg. "Is this your child?"

For the first time, Samantha slowly faced Seven. Their gazes held a long moment, only the din of the party heard. Finally, Wildman nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

Janeway fluttered at the grief and turned full board to face her spouse. But Seven seemed oblivious to the undercurrent of jealousy and regret.

Seven let a hand glide over the child's dark mat of hair. "He is quite…substantial…for his age."

Janeway strangled a groan at the careless comment, but Samantha took it in stride.

"He _is_ chunky," she replied, digging a finger playfully into a leg. The boy squealed and giggled, dripping drool down to fall on his mother's pip. After Samantha wiped her own chin, she turned serious. "The Doctor said his growth has been affected by the Class X nebula."

"For how long?" Janeway asked with some concern, a hand unconsciously rubbing her belly.

"He isn't sure," she said, bouncing child on her hip.

Naomi stepped in front of Seven to play with her brother's toes. The child cooed and batted at her head. "His name is Dukat," Naomi chimed in. "But we call him Duke."

"Duke," Seven repeated. "It suits him."

Janeway caught Seven's eyes wander down to her own expanding middle, where their child was growing. To an inquiring Borg look, Janeway encouraged her mate with a nearly imperceptible nod.

Seven turned her attention back to Naomi's mother. "Perhaps you've heard…but Kathryn and I are expecting and—"

"You're what?" Samantha stuttered.

"What? What are they expecting?" Naomi asked her mother, who ignored her.

Seven tipped her head slightly. "We are—"

Naomi whirled in place, tugging on the long Borg arms. "What are you expecting, Seven?"

Seven finally regarded the child, running her fingertips along the girl's chin. "The Captain and I are going to have a baby."

"A baby! Gee!" Naomi crinkled her forehead. "But who's the father?"

A bubble of silence enveloped them within three meters of the small group. Seven looked up, her eyes taking in the cocked ears and the expressions of interest among the crew and the Boolarai.

"Later, Naomi," her mother chided. The girl opened her mouth to protest, but Samantha frowned and shook her head once. Then she rushed to speak before Naomi filled the gap of conversation. "Seven," she said, touching the woman's arm. "How far along are you?"

Seven took a half step back. "_I_ am not pregnant," Seven replied, touching her chest gingerly with a finger. "The Captain is expecting."

Samantha blinked, and along with a gaggle of others, their eyes searched Kathryn's face for some confirmation. The Captain felt suddenly vulnerable, the feelings mysterious to her. She was among friends. They'd proven their friendship by being here at her happiest moment. Yet, she felt oddly unsettled.

But she suppressed it all and fell easily into the façade of command. "Yes, I'm the one carrying the child," she said nonchalantly. She rubbed her belly, as she searched Samantha's face.

The Ensign's eyes lit up, delight filled her. "Well, then this is a double celebration! I didn't know."

Naomi looked between her mother and the Captain. "So who's the father?"

Ensign Wildman frowned at her daughter, whispering a hush.

"Why can't you—?"

Ensign Wildman swept her daughter into a joint hug with the Kathryn, startling both the Captain and her daughter. "Now give Seven another hug because the line isn't getting shorter."

Naomi dutifully hugged the Borg and was quickly whisked away when her inquiries began anew.

Seven looked over inquiringly at Kathryn. "Why did she not tell her or allow me to tell her?"

"Because she probably doesn't know that we are both the parents, Seven," Janeway replied.

=/\=

B'Elanna scratched her head, feeling the ridges of her Klingon skull. "I think my head is going to explode," she said to Tom, who stood beside in the reception line.

"Mine, too," he replied. "And I had to serve has Daddy Captain." He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the clear night sky with its unfamiliar star constellations. "Or is that Captain Daddy."

B'Elanna crosses her arms and stabs the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "I always thought you had a thing for Janeway. Now I know."

He crinkled his nose. "Puhlease," he replied nonplussed. "That would be like kissing my sister. Not something I ever wanted to do."

B'Elanna seemed appeased by Tom's nonchalance and turned to stare at the couple. "Do you know what this means?"

"What?"

"I won! I won the bet. My feet are so looking forward to their rub down." She snapped her fingers and smacked her lips. "I just wished I could have betted a month of feet rubs rather than just a week."

"Yeah, well, I would never have put those two together in a million years and yet…."

They watched as Seven, bearing a dinner plate and drink, stepped lightly beside her wife and offered the woman the cup after pecking her lips. The Captain's poise with the public displays of affection seemed out of character, and yet she was perfectly at ease.

Tom tugged at B'Elanna's hand. "It's our turn," he added.

B'Elanna nodded at Seven and shook the Captain's hand nervously.

"This is a little formal, don't you think?" the Captain asked lightly.

B'Elanna blinked before she came to herself. She circled the Captain's shoulders and hugged her. "I'm sorry," she said. "I mean, no, this is great." She pulled back. "You're a lucky woman, Captain. Seven's quite the looker, if a bit obtuse."

Kathryn's crooked smile blossomed even before she could contain it. "Thank you, I think."

Kathryn frowned at her plate of food. "I'm sorry for eating, but I'm starving."

"You're entitled," B'Elanna replied. "In fact, I'm surprised you weren't carried in."

"I'm not that big," Kathryn replied, her eyes tracking down to B'Elanna's large center.

The Klingon scratched her belly unconsciously over her tunic. "Thanks for reminding me."

The Captain offered up some of the delicacies on her plate. "Care to share, mommy?"

B'Elanna took some brown confection in the center.

"Chocotl," B'Elanna said, affecting her most sincere Boolarai accent.

Tom took a red, prickly slice of fruit. "These look and taste like strawberries…" he said, pointing to some deep red, nearly black berries with white seeds. "These are…"

Kathryn hummed her pleasure as she chewed. "Seven brought cantaloupe, too!"

"And tomatoes," Seven replied as she wiped red juice dribbling down her the side of her mouth.

"Maize," Tom replied as he proffered a cob that had been cleaned thoroughly of its kernels.

Kathryn's eyes widened. "Where's Mr. Tuvok? I really want to get on this mystery."

He had been standing with the Boolarai king in deep discussion when his ears pricked up. "Captain?" he said, stepping close. "Do you require something?"

"Have you inquired with the authorities about their staples?"

"No, I have not I have been questioning…"

"Terrific!" she replied stepping lightly from the line up. "Maybe they know how to get back! Tuvok, you're with me."

Kathryn had already stepped away from her spouse, when a familiar hand warmed to her shoulder. "May I recommend that a seasoned anthropologist pursue the preliminary investigations, rather than the Captain? At least until our wedding reception has been complete."

Kathryn stopped, sighed and turned. She ignored the look of amusement on Lt. Torres' face and the one of vague concern on Tuvok's. Instead she focused in on Seven of Nine, shutting out all other stimulus. Seven was piqued. Kathryn could tell from the lifted chin, the raised eyebrows and the crossed arms.

She scratched her temple before softening her gaze. "You are quite right, darling," she said quietly. She heard the echo of her endearment from B'Elanna, followed by a quiet snicker. Kathryn rubbed her lips together and re-focused on Seven. _Lovely Seven of Nine, who loved her. _

She took the woman's hand and brushed her lips lightly against her knuckles. "I'm sorry," she said. "My place is here with you." As she turned, she gracefully laced their hands together. She tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Voyager."

"_Commander Chakotay here, Captain."_

His voice sent a chill through the small group, many stiffening as they watched the Captain speak to her wife's ex-lover. "Commander, just the person I needed," she said. "There is a mystery here that has your name written all of over it."

"_What would that be?"_

"Please arrange to transfer the conn and report to the planet's surface. Mr. Tuvok will fill you in. Janeway out."

"I will report to you when our investigation is complete, Captain."

"Fine, Tuvok." She watched ruefully as he made his way toward the King.

Kathryn's mind fielded a thousand questions. How did the Boolarai get here? Do they realize they are distant cousins? Do they have legends that tell of their migrations? Her mind was zinging in every direction.

That deep need inside of her…the need that compelled her to study cosmology and that eventually put her on a starship, it was trying to assert itself. On every occasion, her need to explore was her entire reason for existing.

She knew she'd grown accustomed to subsisting on coffee and the need to explore, to know. Just like her father. The last thought was sobering and brought Kathryn back to the eternal now. _This is our wedding reception, for heaven's sakes! I've just married a beautiful woman,_ she thought. _And she wants to be with me!_

Just before turning back, Kathryn noted the glint of a shuttle as it passed overhead. _Now that's double time,_ she thought. She sighed again before threading her arm through one of Seven's.

As Seven was chatting amiably with B'Elanna and Tom, she patted Kathryn's arm without missing a beat in her conversation. Kathryn smiled warmly up at the Borg beauty, knowing that it was Seven's gentle way of gratitude for choosing to remain with her.

But B'Elanna broke the reverie with her next question. "Do you remember cataloguing my sex life?"

Seven lifted a brow. "Of course, I have an eidetic memory. And more precisely, Lieutenant, I was studying human mating rituals. You were quite amorous." Seven favored Tom with an appraising look. "You both were quite _resourceful_." Seven turned a hard stare at B'Elanna. "It was refreshing."

Janeway felt herself color. There were some things she liked about being Captain and exclusion from conversations about the mating habits of her crew was definitely one of them. "Darling," she whispered.

But B'Elanna Torres accepted the gauntlet by pulling herself to her full height. "Paybacks are a bitch," B'Elanna replied with a wink.

Tom smiled grimly into his cup. "Seven, I think you should probably request your terms."

"My terms?"

"Yes, your terms for surrender."

Slowly, Seven swiveled her head toward the Klingon. "Borg do not surrender."

"Ho ho!" B'Elanna bellowed with a toss of her head. She drew startled looks from the others, especially the natives.

"All right, you two," Kathryn finally said. "Seven's had enough—and so have I."

B'Elanna ignored the warning shot over her bow. Instead, she crossed her arms and gave Seven a perturbed look. "Your wife won't always be around," she replied with a lift of a chin.

Seven took a step forward, while B'Elanna took a corresponding step back. "When she is not, we will continue this discussion."

"Seven?" Kathryn was startled by the aggression from two women she thought had ironed out their differences.

"Even pregnant, I will crush you like a baktag on the field of honor!"

The corner of Seven's mouth curled just slightly. "On the holodeck sixty hours hence."

"Holodeck?" Janeway blinked.

B'Elanna nodded once and turned on her heels. But over her shoulder she added: "And don't forget the potato salad this time!" she hissed. "My baby will be hungry after mopping up the floor with your scrawny ass."

Kathryn blinked again. _Potato salad!_ She turned wondrous eyes on her wife.

"I shall offer no quarter to either you or your DenIb Qatlh."

"We won't need it, petaQ!" B'Elanna called out.

Kathryn studied Seven as she watched them leave. "Did you just call her baby a Denebian slime devil?"

Seven finally turned. "Of course. It is part of the game. The invectives she uses for Eridani and I are—"

"I don't want to know," Janeway finally conceded. "Here comes Dani now."

The pair watched as Commander Chakotay, followed closely by a hand-in-hand Lt. Tal and Dani, along with several other officers to the festivities. Dani gestured toward her parents and Tal nodded. They hugged and Dani trotted off.

The girl ran her hands along one of the chiseled columns and then waltzed by the column of mist to peer into the ice buckets.

She walked slowly by the food table, her eyes growing wider until they were twin moons as she encountered a dark confection. Dani took a large slice of it and then looked at her parents in astonishment.

She trotted over to them, giving her plate to the Captain while she flung her arms around Seven's neck. Seven returned the hug with equal ardor, raising the girl from her feet for good measure.

"I missed you, mom," she replied. Dani pulled back to look her over. "You look different. Is everything okay?"

She looked gravely between both parents. "It is more than okay," Seven replied. "Especially now that you are with us."

Dani tipped her head and studied Cappie, as she retook possession of her plate. "Why do you look like a raccoon?"

"A raccoon?" Seven gets a nice hug and a kiss and I get labeled an animal, Janeway thought, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Seven leaned into her wife. "I believe she is referring to the remnants of your periorbital hematomas," Seven clarified.

"Yes," Janeway whispered, scratching an eyebrow. "Yes, I know I still have the shiners."

Dani took another bite of the cake and gestured at it with a fork. "Did you know this is real chocolate?"

"It's wonderful, isn't it?"

"Did you not notice the fruits and vegetables?" Seven inquired.

Janeway tried to keep a straight face at her wife's inquiry. Seven was certainly full of surprises.

Dani squinted a single eye at her Borg mother, underscoring the absurdity of the question. Seven slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I believe you have grown an entire centimeter," she said.

Dani looked around at the party. "So what's this all about?"

Strangely Dani's prenatal Borg implant had not telegraphed any messages since sending the coordinates of where her mother could be found a couple of nights ago.

Just then, the black night sky lit up like day. A million points of light darted around like giant fireflies.

Janeway stepped back from her family, looking in every direction at the flitting lights. She touched her commbadge. "Voyager! This is Janeway! Report!"

"_Ayala here, Captain. We see the lights. They came on us so fast!"_

"That's what light does, Lieutenant. What did the sensors read?"

"_That's the strange part. We got no sensors readings and then bam!"_

"Are they making any incursions on Voyager?"

"_No, nothing. It's like we don't exist or they don't see us."_

"Or they don't care," she said. "Keep me posted, Lieutenant. Janeway out."

"_Aye, Captain."_

Janeway looked at Seven. "Shore leave is hereby canceled. I want everyone back on Voyager, until we can—"

"That's not fair!" Dani wailed. "I just got here and I'm hungry!"

Janeway flashed an incendiary gaze her daughter. It was one that had fused ensigns and even lieutenants to bulkheads. But her daughter was immune.

"This is not open to discussion, young lady," she said in full command mode. Janeway pivoted one foot away and then back. "After you find Dani a place, Seven, you're with me."

Janeway whirled and marched toward Commander Tuvok and Svante who had returned from inside one of the pyramids.

Seven put an arm around her daughter, trying to steer toward the shuttle. "Ah, there is Naomi," she said, trying to raise points to console her.

Naomi smiled amiably, flipping her hair as she walked. "It's too bad about the lights," the girl said. "At least they didn't attack us again, right, Eridani?"

"This reeks," Dani muttered. Seven squeezed her daughter's shoulder in discouragement of any more outbursts.

"Ensign Wildman, I must accompany Kathryn on the surface. Could you please take Eridani back with you to Voyager? I will retrieve her after my duty shift ends."

Samantha nodded emphatically. "Of course, Seven. Of course." She opened her arms for Dani to join she and her children.

Dani turned her back on the woman and looked up at Seven. "If I promise to be quiet, can I stay with you?"

"The Captain has ordered everyone to return to Voyager."

"Are you coming with me then?"

Seven brushed Dani's hair behind an ear. "I am on the away team. But we will return." She leaned down and before she could remember the new farewell protocols, she pecked Eridani on the lips.

She turned quickly and marched off.

While they waited for the shuttle to return for another load of passengers, Dani watched her mothers in the distance as they pointed to various points in the sky. The King, Svante and Tuvok nodded and added their own comments.

She turned to look up at the lights. They seemed to be taking up certain positions in a specific sequence. A sequence so long that Dani realized that no one may have recognized the pattern. She made to run to her mother, but Samantha gripped her bicep with amazing strength.

"Hold on there, Dani. You'll be okay with us."

Dani fell to her heels and sighed.

Naomi patted her friend's shoulder. "It's too bad you didn't get to see the ceremony and now this."

Dani finally tore her eyes away from her parents. "What ceremony?"

"You didn't know?" Samantha asked with a squeak.

Dani looked up at Naomi's mother. "Didn't know what?"

"Oh, dear," she whispered. "I don't think we should—"

"Seven and the Captain got married today," Naomi blurted.

Dani felt the burn of scrutiny at a time she needed some privacy. She cleared her throat. "They got married?"

"Yeah, here on the planet. It was nice," Naomi replied. "You do know about the baby, don't you?"

Dani let her anger swell. It was the only thing that was going to keep her from crying. "Yeah, I know about the baby," she griped. "Why can't you just buzz off?"

Naomi and Samantha gasped, but Dani angrily turned her back on them. Why weren't there any green-lettered text messages announcing themselves? Its silence fed the resentment.


	10. Imagine

**Quantum of Chaos**

**Chapter 10: Imagine**

Janeway looked up at the white lights that had plagued her ship for the past month. The darkness of the moon's night made the lights that much brighter. They whisked and flitted around like a plasmaworks display. They appeared to be harmless spectator phenomena here on Boolarai and Janeway was confused.

In space, the lights were an entirely different entity, if behavior mattered. They'd killed one crewman with their intense EM radiation. They'd disrupted ships' systems. They'd operated in cooperation to disrupt Voyager's shields. _What are we missing?_ Janeway thought.

She turned to regard her First Officer, Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres, Ensign Arnie Swinn and Crewman Marla Gilmore—the team Chakotay tapped to investigate the lights.

Chakotay's selections seemed reasonable. But Janeway was concerned because none of the team had spoken to each other so far, not even for greeting when they hastily assembled shortly after Chakotay met with the Boolarai leaders. None of the team would even look at each other. Except Swinn, who kept staring at the swell of Janeway's belly.

Janeway laid a hand over it and willed his eyes elsewhere. But they remained there and Janeway turned her back on him to glance at the stars and lights.

"So you're telling me the Boolarai summoned the lights?" the Captain asked.

"That's what Svante and the King indicated," Chakotay replied.

She glanced over her shoulder at her First Officer, trying to contain the smile that lit her face as she watched Seven of Nine join them. Instead she pinned her eyes on the commander, trying to focus her thoughts. "But you don't believe him."

"That's not what I said." His tone was like a slap and it made Janeway crinkle her brow at him.

There was a moment of silence and Janeway forced herself to regard the group again. Seven lifted her chin slightly, daring Chakotay's darting eyes to look at her. The expression on her face was mild displeasure, but Janeway knew the truth. It was the flipside of her calm joy; this was her quiet rage. It was dangerous at any level.

Janeway caught Seven's gaze and made an almost imperceptible frown. Seven nodded faintly in reply.

Meanwhile, B'Elanna's eyes narrowed on Chakotay. Being part Klingon, she had no need or ability, perhaps, to hide the seething anger she felt. If she'd carried a bat'leth, it would have been unsheathed and lodged in his belly by now. It was an odd dynamic, considering their years together in the Maquis. But loyalties changed. _Too easily_, Janeway thought.

Swinn covered his smirk with a hand and looked away, his shoulders shaking. Even though the tall, rail-thin man had spent six months under Chakotay's command in the Class X nebula, Mr. Swinn was a sail, blowing where the wind swept. He brushed a calloused hand through his thinning blond hair. His hands had known work on Voyager's lower decks. As an enlisted man, he'd never gone to Starfleet Academy. It wasn't a career. It was a damn job and he never signed up for a seven-year tour. That's what he had told the Captain and Chakotay shortly after they'd been reunited after the scattering.

"Regardless, Mr. Swinn," Janeway remembered saying. "You can stay at your post in maintenance or you can choose to better your education. It's up to you."

He'd made the wiser choice. Janeway had no illusions about the depth of his loyalties. Now with his apparent disapproval of her pregnancy, she wondered about how evolved he really was.

Janeway did a double take on Gilmore, though. She looked disappointed with Chakotay, rather than annoyed or surprised. Then her eyes tracked down to see the small swell of Gilmore's belly. She was three months pregnant with Chakotay's child. _Now how could I have forgotten that?_ she wondered.

Gilmore, B'Elanna and Janeway had all gotten pregnant about the same time, yet the Captain felt like she was the largest and worried about the fetus' growth. "An illusion," the Chief Medical Officer had said about two weeks ago. "You are smaller than most woman and so your protrusion appears larger by comparison."

She had read him the riot act then until he'd performed several diagnostics on the baby in utero. All returned normal. "Trust me, Captain," he had said. "Your baby is fine and worrying about her or threatening me isn't going to settle your nerves."

He'd handed her some medicines he'd replicated.

"What are these?" she had asked.

"An anti-anxiety drug—"

"But I'm pregnant—"

"That does not cross the placental barrier."

She had shaken her head and pushed the bottle against his holographic chest. "Save it for someone who needs it."

Janeway blinked back her fatigue and wondered if it hadn't been a mistake to ignore her anxiety. Beating the Boolarai man on the playing field had been exhilarating and provided more relief to the building internal tension, but now. It was becoming harder to focus on the task at hand.

It was easy to get lost in ship politics, whether real or imagined, especially when hormones and the strain of command was ratcheting up her apprehensions. She'd always prided herself to be above that sort of thing. It had helped to be athletic and to have a sister who _lived _for gossip. No, Janeway herself preferred the world of facts. And that's where she was going to ground herself.

Her musings had only taken a split second. "What exactly are you saying then, Chakotay?" Janeway kept her tone mild, catching the surprise of her crew, even Seven. "How did they summon them—these lights?"

"Just a minute," he said.

The group watched him as he ducked back into the pyramid.

B'Elanna poked the inside of her mouth with her tongue and crossed her arms. "Do you think he went to take a crap?"

Swinn laughed and then swore. Gilmore sniffed. Seven looked baffled about the humor of one's bodily functions.

But Janeway whipped her head to her Chief Engineer. "That was inappropriate, Lieutenant."

"It was a joke, Captain," she said but her eyes were pinned on Crewman Gilmore. "I thought we needed a little…_thaw_."

"What we _all _need is a little time and a lot of compassion," she snapped.

B'Elanna uncrossed her arms. "Aye, Captain," she said begrudgingly.

Gilmore, who was standing beside the Captain, whispered only loud enough to be heard by Janeway. "Thank you."

The Captain patted the woman's arm as Chakotay emerged.

His eyes tracked toward Janeway's hand on his ex-lover's. Janeway tried to keep from ripping her hand away at the scowl that rippled across his face. Instead she stepped forward to gesture to the startling object he carried.

He gingerly held up a crystal human skull toward the sky. It collected the ambient light and glinted. "This is how they summon the 'Amai Sadakee.'"

"What does Amai Sadakee mean?" Janeway asked.

"The best I can tell it means 'bringers.'"

"Bringers?" B'Elanna spat. "Harbingers, maybe?"

Chakotay shook his head once, watching Janeway finger the contours of the transparent crystal human skull.

"Harbingers sounds ominous," he explained, focusing on Janeway. "To the Boolarai, they are the Bringers, Bearers of Gifts. But it's more than that."

"What do they bring exactly?" Janeway asked, looking up at a pensive First Officer.

"The Boolarai myths are filled with tales of them. They brought magic and learning."

"Magic," Swinn hissed with a disdain.

Chakotay turned to regard the Ensign. "Myths tell more about a people than we realize," he said, as if lecturing at the Academy. "The Boolarai myths, for instance, speak of the Bringers as those who led their ancestors from faraway Laloke to this paradise."

"Laloke?" Janeway mused, still rubbing the head. She glanced down at it. "If they came from earth as the Doctor suggests, then perhaps they know how to get back." She handed off the skull to Chakotay. "The short way."

"It's an interesting mystery," he said softly, barely able to hold her gaze. He looked away quickly then.

"I remember going to a museum on earth," Janeway said, still staring at the object in Chakotay's hands. "There was a crystal skull there."

"Earth? Really?" Gilmore asked as she spied the crystal object from a respectable difference.

Janeway nodded. "It terrified me at first. Later, of course, I learned about how our people believed five hundred years ago that the crystals were chiseled by the gods."

"Or space aliens," B'Elanna added helpfully.

Chakotay looked down at the skull. "We could scan the skulls. See how they work and try to understand how the Boolarai communicate with the Amai Sadakee. Perhaps it could help…Voyager."

Janeway noted the careful use of the ship's name, rather than any collective noun where he was included. But Chakotay's plan was sound so she nodded in satisfaction. "In the meantime, we could remain here. Replenish supplies. Shore leave." The Captain looked at the team her First Officer had assembled. "Let's get to it."

As the group broke up, Janeway remained where she was. "Commander," she said. "A word."

He looked around and stepped closer. "Yes, Captain?"

She inhaled. It would be difficult to keep a poker face. He had been inside her defenses for so long; he would recognize any pretense she used. Janeway decided to play it straight. "What about you, Chakotay? You mentioned your desire to leave the ship. I hope that's still not the case."

He turned away from the Captain and looked up. The flitting stars were beginning to dissipate slowly. "I'm angry, Kathryn," he said. "Did you really expect that would change in a day?"

She inhaled deeply. "I'd hoped," Janeway said.

"I just don't understand why you couldn't have just told me."

"You weren't yourself, remember?"

"The Doctor found a cure for the madness about a week ago." His words were spoken so softly, Janeway had to step closer. "What about then? I thought we were friends."

"I wanted to be sure," she replied.

"Of what?"

"That the news wouldn't cause any more…friction."

"Friction?" He ran a hand through his hair and laughed bitterly. "You stole my girlfriend, Kathryn—!"

"Chakotay," Kathryn said quietly, looking around to find startled expressions among the Boolarai who were milling around. "This is—"

"I didn't even know you were a dyke. I'll bet Mark would be surprised."

Kathryn became like steel, smothering the ignited anger. He was prodding her and she knew it. "Chakotay," she said quietly with a great deal of effort. "Seven ended the relationship with you. She told you on the day Dani came you both were finished. Do you remember that?"

He inhaled deeply, nodding finally. Chakotay again looked up at the night sky with the strange constellations.

Kathryn could see the shame settling on him like a tattoo. Her mother, Gretchen, had always told her that a little shame was good. "Too much of it and it'd eat you alive from the inside out," her mother had once said. She could see that here with her First Officer.

"Look, Chakotay. We never meant to hurt you."

She could see his shoulders shaking, but his reaction couldn't stop what she had to say. "It just happened. I'm just as surprised as anyone else."

"Not as surprised as me," he muttered.

Janeway grimaced slightly, wanting to take the man by his collar and knock some sense into him. But Chakotay was a complicated man with a great deal of pride. This wasn't going to blow over anytime soon. But the Captain promised she'd get as many of her people home and that included him.

She rubbed her hands together, as she stepped closer to him.

"I want to salvage something of our friendship, if possible," Janeway said quietly. "If not, then I'll fight for a professional relationship. You are one helluva First Officer, Chakotay. We need you."

"No, you don't," he said.

Janeway heard the vague self-pity. The man was probably dealing with a complicated set of emotions, after the last six months. "If this intriguing mystery doesn't tell you how much we need you, then you don't want to know, Chakotay."

He accepted the comment without reply, forcing Janeway to terminate the conversation. "Just think about it. You have a month until we resume course. In the meantime, can I rely on your commitment to serve the ship?"

"You have my word, for whatever its worth."

=/\=

Seven of Nine stabbed the tricorder, configuring it to record the hieroglyphs she'd found in a small room inside the Pyramid of the Moon. The torchlight jumped across the deeply chiseled pictographs, forcing her to regulate the ambient light readings on the device by hand.

She did not understand why she was perturbed. She had seen Captain Janeway and Chakotay disagree many times. She herself had openly debated the Captain on a number of occasions. In all those times, the Captain had reacted consistently, neither threatened by the dissent nor afraid to examine all the facts. Yet, her ex-lover's harsh words for her spouse upset Seven's innate balance. So much so, she felt unsettled. And Seven of Nine felt frustrated by the predicament, surprisingly so.

A few hours later, Captain Janeway found her mate still poring over the glyphs. She ducked her head through the door and stepped into the narrow room. The walls were brightly painted.

"Hello, darling," Janeway said.

Seven looked up, warmed by her tired smile. But she was dismayed to find her feelings of perturbation bubbling unexpectedly to the surface.

"Captain," Seven said formally. "I am nearly finished with recording these glyphs. They describe the ceremony to summon the photonic singularity."

Janeway nodded, as she looked at the wall glyphs. "We'll be staying for another month," she said, coming to stand next to the woman. Janeway looked up thoughtfully as the light played across the familiar planes of Seven's face.

Kathryn's proximity seemed to disassemble Seven from within. So she turned to her work. "The glyphs are quite complex," Seven replied. She pointed to a set of symbols that looked like flames inside of a cartouche. "This is their symbol."

Janeway tipped her head. "You don't want to talk about it?"

Seven looked up from the tricorder. "If by 'it' you mean the photonic singularity, then I am discussing it."

Janeway quirked a corner of her mouth and tried to speak. She chuckled again and shook her head. "You know perfectly well that I didn't mean the photonic singularity."

"Ah," Seven said. "Then you were referring to the tattooed singularity."

Janeway's surprise quickly gave way to confusion. "Seven, I can't believe you just called him that," she said, watching her spouse carefully.

Seven flicked a brow. "I was attempting to use levity to alleviate the stress of the situation," she replied.

"Are you stressed?" she whispered, stepping closer to examine her eyes.

Seven studied Janeway's features, even the little point of a scar just above her left eye. Seven could hear the torchlight dancing with every draft. She could smell the dankness of meters and meters of solid rock and sand. She could hear the heavy silence within. Seven knew her exact coordinates, both on the planet and in the spatial grid. She knew the quantity of data she had collected, down to the terabyte.

What she did not know was the nature of anger. It was a big fiery ball burning inside of her. She had never known it was present. _That is inaccurate_, she thought. Seven had felt it when she had defied the Captain's order to save that member of species 8472, the one who had been captured and killed by the Hirogen.

The analysis her brain had dredged up was incongruous with this development. Kathryn was not in danger from Chakotay. Yet, Seven's respiration was elevated and her body was pouring adrenalin into her system.

"His treatment of you during the briefing was insubordinate. Furthermore, I cannot properly identify why I ever let that man put his penis inside of—"

"Seven!" Janeway had slammed her eyes shut to the visual while the tips of her pinky and ring finger massaged the middle of her forehead. "Let's not go there." She opened her eyes. "Hmm?"

Seven returned to her work on the tricorder. "It is puzzling nonetheless and beyond maddening for me. Perhaps I should dismember him—"

"Seven," Janeway whispered.

"…Limb by limb. Or program my nanoprobes to induce a nasty—"

"Seven of Nine," Janeway said more forcefully.

The Borg finally looked up from her work.

"I'm a big girl," Janeway said, pronouncing every word with painful emphasis.

Seven surveyed the Captain, head to toe. "You are not a _girl_," Seven replied, a little confused by the comment.

"It's an expression. It means that I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

"Yet you did not."

Janeway squinted, searching for the right words. "You cannot fight my battles, Seven."

"You fought mine just yesterday when the Boolarai wanted to wed me to one of their own."

Janeway frowned slightly. "That's not the same thing and you know it."

"I know no such thing, Kathryn. I do however know that this double standard is inequitable. I would defend you against anyone or anything. I would not even withhold my own life, if required."

Kathryn's expression softened and little gurgle of affection caught in her throat. "I know, my darling Seven," she whispered. "And I love you, too. But there are some things only I can do."

Seven took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "As a Borg drone…" Seven looked away briefly. "I would have terminated his life signs. As your Astrometrics Officer, I would not have inquired into your exchange with him. But as Seven of Nine your spouse, I…" Seven's face held a faint expression of confusion and anger. "Words are elusive."

Janeway pursed her lips and rubbed her spouse's triceps. "I can see that the briefing upset you, Seven. I'm sorry. But we—"

Janeway's hand jerked away just in time for a crewmember to round the corridor. Ensign Swinn looked slowly between the two women, studying their postures with a strange quirk to his lips.

"Ensign Swinn?" Janeway enquired. "Did you need something?"

"No, Captain," he finally said, stepping into the small stone enclosure. "Commander Chakotay asked that I locate you and advise that all teams have reported in except Seven of Nine."

"We'll be out shortly, Ensign. Thank you."

Swinn gripped a hand behind his back and made a tour of the hieroglyphs. "Any luck, Seven? With these drawings?"

Seven tipped her head at the strange Ensign. He'd been called up from the lower decks for assignment, as part of the Captain's morale boost to re-integrate the once-fractured crew. She'd heard he'd been a hatchet man for Chakotay during their six months adrift in the Class X nebula. But he did not seem to engender trust.

"Luck is irrelevant," Seven finally said. "I have recorded the glyphs and will utilize the assistance of the Boolarai to decipher them."

Swinn chuckled at her reply. Before Seven could ask what he found humorous, Swinn had asked to be dismissed.

"We'll be out when Seven has completed her scans," Janeway informed him. "Dismissed."

He nodded once. "I'll inform Commander Chakotay."

Janeway's hard face softened as she turned once again to focus on Seven. "When you're ready to talk, will you please let me know?"

Seven nodded. "Indeed," she said. "And my scans are now complete."

Seven moved toward the door, but Janeway caught her hand. She twined their fingers, stepping closer to search Seven's face. "I have more to tell you."

"Yes?"

"Chakotay has agreed to stay with the crew during that time. Evidently, the mystery intrigues him."

Seven nodded, offering no comment.

Janeway stepped closer, allowing a single fingertip to brush stray blonde strands behind Seven's ear. "I'm sorry," Janeway whispered finally.

"For what do you apologize?"

Janeway shrugged a shoulder and her tearing eyes darted away from Seven's. "Instead of a honeymoon, you got…" She gestured at the wall. "Work and now stress and…."

Seven tenderly placed her fingertips under Janeway's strong chin and lifted it up. She brushed her lips against the Captain's. "You did not cause the lights to appear." She lifted an eyebrow, waiting to see if Janeway would attempt to contradict that fact.

"No," Janeway said. "But I promise, I'll make it up to you. We'll honeymoon on earth for an entire season."

For the first time in three hours, Seven's heart felt lighter. She playfully smoothed Janeway's strong chin with her thumb. "I look forward to it," she said, before dipping her head for another pass at Kathryn's mouth.

Janeway pulled away and straightened, as if the last few minutes had not occurred.

Seven was always amazed how she could turn herself on and off at will. There was no doubt from her posture or demeanor that she was now thoroughly Captain Janeway. Pips was submerged, along with Seven's chaotic emotions.

=/\=

Captain Janeway logged herself, Seven and the rest of the away mission from duty, giving them an entire shift for rest. Only after they were alone in the turbolift did Seven of Nine point out the complication of their schedule.

"It is six hundred hours, Captain."

Janeway looked surprised. "Is it? I thought it was much earlier."

"Eridani begins academy classes at eight hundred."

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose, realizing the implications. "She'll be getting off when we go back to work." She offered Seven an apologetic frown. "I'm sorry. I think I've been used to _you_ carrying that load."

"Then I suggest that perhaps we could determine Ensign Wildman's availability to chaperone her after five hundred hours."

"Brilliant idea," she said. Then carefully, Janeway stepped closer, studying her spouse as she ran a single fingertip down the length of her arm. "I know you would like to talk but I was thinking. We could have breakfast with Dani. Maybe walk her to the holodeck."

Seven offered a small smile. "I believe she will appreciate the time we spend with her. As for our discussion, I will require time to appraise my emotions."

Janeway's fingertip swirled in circles on Seven's shoulders. "Take all the time you need," Janeway said. Suddenly, Janeway frowned, as if she had nightmarish visions of Seven doing something inappropriate because of the negative feelings she was contending with. "On second thought, don't let this fester, Seven."

"I will advise you when the internal appraisal is complete."

=/\=

The couple chimed the door of Ensign Wildman's quarters to find it in complete disarray. Toys were strewn about the living area. Padds were stacked on an end table. A pillow and blanket still lay haphazard on the small sofa.

Meanwhile, Naomi and Dani were engaged in a "tug o'war" of sorts with a dark-haired, three-year-old boy. Each girl kneeled on an opposite end of the living room, trying to sweet-talk the boy to their respective side.

"No, over here!" Naomi insisted, shaking a blue rattle.

The boy stood in the middle. His dimples deepened with every giggle. He was clearly teasing them by taking a step toward one, to incite the other. Then he would pivot in the opposite direction to provoke the first.

Both women gasped when realization hit of the boy's identity.

"Hey, Duke," Dani coaxed, flourishing a flashing red ball.

With the door sliding closed behind them, Naomi finally looked up. "Oh, Seven! Captain!" She jumped up to hug Seven, who returned the affection easily.

All eyes turned to Dani, who grabbed the boy and jostled him playfully. "I won!" Dani said. "Naomi lost!"

"I did not!" Naomi protested.

"Naomi, is that your brother Dukat?" Janeway asked.

The girl frowned to see the chubby boy giggle helplessly under Dani's tickling onslaught. "Yes, Captain. That's my brother," she said. "The traitor."

"But he's…." Janeway's words strangled in her throat at the exponential growth the four-day-old had experienced.

Janeway swayed slightly and leaned on a table for support, until Seven took over with a firm hand under her elbow.

"Naomi, where is your mother?" Seven asked, looking around while she supported her mate.

"Oh, she's getting dressed. I promised to watch Duke."

"_We_ promised," Dani corrected. She held up the boy's arm and cheered, as if he were in a vast stadium of admirers.

"Yeah, we pwomithed," the boy said in a soft-palate lisp.

Janeway turned startled eyes to her spouse, who inhaled deeply at the implications.

"'Yes, we promised,'" Naomi corrected the boy.

"I say dat!" he replied with a pronounced frown.

Naomi rolled her eyes at Seven and the Captain, as if enjoying a quiet moment with peers. "She's a terrible influence," she whispered.

"I heard that, Naomi." Dani held Duke's hand and shook it, as if she were a ventriloquist and he the puppet. Duke wagged a finger at his sister. "Duke, tell Naomi she stinks," Dani whispered rather loudly.

Naomi gasped.

"Eridani," Seven said, trying to avert a pint-sized war. "Is this how you greet your mother and I?"

Dani balled up her body behind the boy's and buried her face in his back. She waved his arm at her parents. "Duke," she whispered. "Say 'Hi, Mom. Hi, Cappie.'"

The boy dutifully mimicked his friend, giggling at the game.

Naomi crossed her arms. "Like we can't hear you telling him to say that?"

Janeway and Seven shared a meaningful look, knowing that was entirely beside the point.

"Dani," Janeway said, finally able to stand on her own. "Enough is enough."

Just then, Ensign Wildman rushed out of her bedroom. She was zipping her tunic as she stopped short at the sight of her commanding officer. "Captain! Seven! What are you two doing here?"

"Our research on the planet's surface had concluded," Seven replied. "We came to collect Eridani for breakfast and determine if it would be an imposition for you to watch her tonight?"

Still hiding behind the boy, Dani had somehow persuaded little Duke to shake his head. Then the little imp began to nod instead and Dani started tickling him unmercifully in revenge. "You _are_ a traitor!"

Samantha smiled nervously, after looking at the spectacle. "Of course, Seven. Anything we can do to help."

"The investigation into the light phenomena requires a work shift to coincide with the planet's nocturnal cycle," Seven explained.

"Yes, I would say it does," Samantha replied. "I would love to help with Dani. She's no trouble."

Dani crinkled her nose at Naomi, who went to her mother's side.

"Thank you for helping us out in a pinch," Janeway said.

"Anytime," she replied.

"Eridani," Seven replied. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

Dani relinquished the boy, to howls of protest. Naomi rushed to him but he toddled after Dani, who managed to scoop him up and handed him to Ensign Wildman. Dani offered a smug look to Naomi.

"Dani? Aren't you going to thank Ensign Wildman and Naomi?"

"Thanks," she mumbled behind her back.

"Dani," Janeway chided. She took the girl by the shoulders and about-faced her. "Look them in the eye."

"Thank you," she repeated again.

"You're very welcome," Wildman and her daughter said simultaneously.

No one but Dani saw Naomi stick her tongue out.

=/\=

"Are you prepared to consume biomatter?" Seven asked as the trio walked together to the turbolift.

"Yeah," Dani said, watching her hand as it glided along the bulkhead.

Captain Janeway and Seven continued to study the girl, but she made it difficult by falling behind.

"Come on, Dani," Janeway said playfully to the lagging child. "Your warp engines seem to be offline."

Seven smiled faintly at her spouse's humorous attempt, but Dani merely complied by jogging up to and then passing them.

"I guess."

Dani found her black boots fascinating as the trio waited for the turbolift. Her mothers continued to stare at her, dumbfounded about her aloofness.

Inside the ascending turbolift, Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine watched a strange series of emotions sweep over their child as she stood with them. She leaned into the siding, resting her temple against it. She appeared to be studying the grain of the tritanium.

"Did you have fun?" Captain Janeway asked finally.

Dani let her hand drop and she twisted to rest her back against the siding, putting her directly in front of her mothers. But then she closed her eyes. "Sure."

Kathryn looked up inquiringly at Seven, who merely gave her own look of puzzlement.

"You seem to get along with Dukat?"

Dani shrugged, as she began to pat the siding arhythmically with her palms.

They soon arrived at the Mess hall, to find the line for breakfast out into the corridor, an uncustomary occurrence.

"What's the line for?" Janeway asked one of the crewman.

The man's eyes widened and then he stared between the Captain and Seven, swallowing hard. "Uh, word's out that Neelix scored some of the Boolarai food."

Janeway rose to her tiptoes to see, laying a hand on Seven for balance. "I can't see what it is," she said. "But it must be good. Every seat is taken."

"It is scrambled eggs and hash browns," Seven replied evenly.

Janeway looked at her, startled. "Can you detect it with your Borg enhancements from the molecules in the air?" She waved a hand in the air.

"No, I read the menu board," she said.

Janeway jostled her head in mock laughter and then lightly elbowed Dani. "Your mother is a laugh a nanosecond. Wouldn't you say?"

Dani nodded and turned to face the crowded Mess Hall. Janeway lightly touched her daughter's shoulders and was about to inquire if she wanted to return to their quarters for breakfast when one of the nearby crewman began to quiz her.

"So, Captain?"

Janeway's smile was less than genuine, but she turned her full attention to the woman. For a nanosecond, Janeway couldn't place her name until… "Yes, Crewman Dorado?"

The woman rubbed her protruding belly absent-mindedly. "I hear the Boolarai have a really odd customs."

Dani suddenly turned and stopped, her back to her mothers. "I have to go pee. I'll be back."

Kathryn shared a concerned expression with Seven before addressing the crewman. "Odd is a matter of perspective," she replied diplomatically. "They found it appalling at first that I was the commanding officer because I'm a woman."

"Ah," the woman said. "So…."

Janeway got the impression she was on a fishing expedition.

"Did _you_ participate in any Boolarai customs?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," she replied. "Two. First I defeated one of their champions in an armed sport."

Dorado's eyes widened slightly. "So that's not an exaggeration."

"No, I probably have scars to prove it. But I'm not going to show _you_." Janeway's smile was genuine. The Captain surmised Dorado had heard about the wound when her eyes tracked to Janeway's gluteus maximus.

"What about…?" Dorado's head involuntarily jerked to Seven. But when the pair made eye contact, the crewman focused back on Janeway. "Um, what about the second ritual?"

_So that's it_, Janeway thought. "Wasn't there an announcement made about the ceremony?"

Dorado nodded tentatively. "Oh, sure. But…" She shrugged a shoulder. "Some practical jokers can carry things too far."

_Too far. _The words echoed in Janeway's head. She realized belatedly that Dorado wasn't the only one curious about the answers. Everyone in the corridor was listening. _Terrific_, she thought. _Our first breakfast together as a married couple and I've brought Seven and Dani to be on display._

"No joke," Janeway finally replied a little more tartly than she intended.

"I didn't mean it like…" Dorado turned a pale pink.

Janeway lifted her chin to address the wider audience. "It's absolutely true." Her heart fell a little sick when she heard some of the gasps. But she was buoyed by a few sporadic claps.

She took Seven's hand, kissed it and lifted it up. "This is my bride!" Janeway held Seven's hand tightly, receiving a firm grip in reply for which she was eternally grateful. "Thank you for asking, Crewman."

Dorado seemed surprise by the last comment. "I was just, um, curious." Then her eyes tracked down to Janeway's expanding belly under a tight tunic. "Um…" She looked away.

Janeway bit her lower lip as she looked at her spouse. There had been no announcement about their child, but they'd discussed it in front of the entire away team. She raised her eyebrows in question. She knew Seven's absolute mistrust of idle gossip. Except this wasn't idle or gossip.

Seven's nearly imperceptible nod was the green light Janeway needed. "We are also expecting our…" Janeway swallowed in a dry throat. She'd almost said first child, but thank her lucky stars she caught herself. That and the fact that Dani was still in the lavatory saved her from eight-year-old wrath. "Our second child. Congratulations to all of us who are expecting."

Dorado tipped her head in thanks. "When are you due?"

"Five months, I think—"

"Four months, three weeks, five days, eleven hours and twenty minutes," Seven replied succinctly. "When are you due, Crewman?"

"About four months, too. Ric and I are thrilled."

Janeway was trying to figure out to whom she referred, when Seven took the bull by the horns. "Lt. Ayala?" she asked.

"The one. We're thinking about getting married. We'll see."

It was Crewman Dorado's turn to move up, along with three of her companions. Seven and Janeway watched as the line got shorter. Dani came meandering back to them, frowning at the line.

"Have we even moved yet?"

"Some," Janeway said, putting an arm around her daughter's shoulders. She felt her stiffen but ignored it. _Why Dani are you so surly_? Janeway wondered. She hoped it wasn't another side effect of the theta radiation.

=/\=

Dani set a large plate of eggs and hash browns down, along with a large orange juice and milk. Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine watched her dig in for the second round of breakfast.

"Are you going to eat all that?" Janeway asked.

Stopping with spoon midway to her mouth, Dani said: "I'm hungry."

With a fork in her hand and her chin resting on the other hand, Janeway watched in bemusement as Dani ate the entire adult plate. "You really are."

"I want another hash brown," the girl declared, rising from the table.

Watching her return to Neelix' serving area, Seven said: "She has grown two centimeters since I measured her last."

"Which was when, darling?"

Seven turned sharply at the open use of the term of endearment.

"Did I say something wrong?" Janeway reached out and rubbed Seven's hand with a thumb.

"On the contrary," Seven said. "I am unaccustomed to your use of 'darling' in open."

Janeway's smile slipped a little when she looked around. The curious stares and a few reproachful gawkers made the rebel in Kathryn want to take Seven in her arms, dip her and kiss her deeply.

But Seven did not like to be on display, though she would say the attention was irrelevant. "Do you want me to stop?" Janeway whispered.

"No," she replied. "I find I take _pleasure _in it."

Janeway gave her a crooked smile. "Me, too." The Captain raised her hand to her lips and gently pressed them against Seven's knuckles.

Seven looked around.

"Are you embarrassed?"

"No," she whispered. "I am becoming aroused."

Janeway threw her head back and laughed loudly, finally drawing startled glances.

"Is that humorous?"

"Oh, no! Not under normal conditions, but in the Mess, with at least fifty sets of eyes, it's amusing that an innocent gesture of affection would stir you."

"Your lips are a potent force, Captain," she replied softly, glancing to one side as if to make sure they were not overheard.

"I'll remember that," she replied waggling her eyebrows for emphasis before taking a long sip of coffee.

Dani sat down without a word and began to plow through the next helping of hash browns.

"Your mother says you've grown two centimeters," Janeway replied. "I'd have to agree with her. No wonder you're starving. And here I thought you had a peg leg."

Dani stopped chewing and looked down at her leg, shaking it for good measure.

Janeway suppressed a smile when she saw Seven do the same examination of her daughter. "It's just an expression, you two," she replied mildly.

Janeway was tiring of the silent treatment already. So she decided to fill the void. "You know," the Captain said, trying to keep her tone breezy. "We are going to stay in orbit for another thirty days. I'm sure we could make another trip to the surface before the departure. Just the three of us. What do you think?"

"Um," Dani said.

Janeway crinkled her brow, not understanding why her nature-loving daughter appeared to be revolted by the very suggestion. "Now here I thought that was an offer you'd jump at."

Dani jerked her head up, but ended up staring at Cappie's pips instead. Her brows became red thunderbolts slashing over her eyes. "Um, if I have to."

Captain Janeway mouthed Dani's reply to Seven, who lifted a brow.

"Eridani," Seven said. "Are you feeling well?"

"Fine, Mom," Dani replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Perhaps you are upset then, as your demeanor is not customarily so curt."

"Or rude," the Captain added.

"I said I was fine. What's rude about the truth?"

Janeway and Seven both sat back in their respective chairs, watching their daughter eat in silence.

Lt. B'Elanna Torres broke the tense silence at the table with a question. "Already acting like an old married couple?" She sauntered in with a tray, followed closely by her husband Lt. Tom Paris.

The Captain knit her brows together, trying to understand the comment. Both of the lieutenants set their trays down at their table, as if they'd been invited. "It's so quiet at this table is all I'm saying," B'Elanna said.

She pulled out her chair and plunked down, diving into the hash browns with much Klingon gusto.

"We are studying our subunit as she consumes mass quantities of biomatter."

Dani groaned slightly and looked away.

"Oh, what's the matter, kid? Are you being smothered?" Paris asked.

He leaned in to bump her shoulders with his. She responded by a bump of her own and the first genuine smile that her parents had seen all morning.

"I'm just dreading staying with Naomi again tonight," she said, shoving the last bit of hash brown into her mouth.

"Hey, why don't you spend tonight in our quarters, Dani?" B'Elanna asked, giving the Captain a cheeky look.

"Seven and I will be on _duty_, Lieutenant," Janeway felt compelled to say.

"Oh, right. Gotcha," B'Elanna added with a wink. "So Dani, what do you say?"

The question brightened her face considerably, but Dani's features fell when Captain Janeway interjected a logical question. "Aren't _you_ on duty for the Beta Shift with the rest of us?"

"Uh," B'Elanna sputtered. "Is this where duty actually means duty or it is a euphemism for—?"

"Duty shift is duty shift," Seven offered, a little puzzled by that exchange.

Janeway patted Seven's arm. "I'll explain later."

"Explain what later," Dani asked, after chugging some milk.

"Never mind," Janeway replied with strained patience. She turned pointedly to her Chief Engineer. "Lieutenant, you were saying?"

"Chakotay informed me that I could assume my regular shift. Evidently, he had one too many engineers."

"One too many?" Janeway asked.

"Oh, here he is now. With his first-string engineer."

Janeway turned to see her First Officer enter the Mess Hall with Marla Gilmore. She was smiling; he was not. But he wasn't scowling. "That's progress," Janeway said.

"What is progress?" Seven asked, studying her ex-lover as they passed.

"Détente," she replied, with a nod toward Commander Chakotay.

"So can I stay in their quarters tonight?" Dani asked her Borg mother.

Seven turned to sit square at the table, looking between B'Elanna and Tom. "Dani will require sufficient biomatter to consume—"

"I know the feeling," Tom replied, rubbing his belly. He was still not fully recovered from his brush with a revved up metabolism that was turning him into a plant.

"She will require supervision of her homework."

"Particularly the mathematics," Janeway replied. "She tends to get bored with the more mundane problems."

"Sounds just like me," B'Elanna beamed a smile at the girl. "So I know exactly where to look."

Dani nodded once, as if she approved.

"You must eat all of your cruciferous vegetables and not just your protein," Seven said, earning an enthusiastic nod from her daughter.

"Uh, Seven," B'Elanna said leaning in. "You'll have to tell me what cruciferous vegetables are first so I can torture the kid right."

"Broccoli," Dani said glumly.

"Oh," B'Elanna said, cupping her throat. "Don't make me…" She spun around to gag. When she turned back, she pounded her own chest with a fist. "Sorry about that. In my condition…" She gestured to small swell of her belly. "The thought of certain foods make me want to puke."

Captain Janeway gave a look of disdain while Dani laughed out loud. "Me, too! I always wondered why someone can't invent a broccoli pill?" Dani said.

B'Elanna pointed her fork a Dani. "That you can swallow whole!"

"Without tasting."

"Back home, it'd make a fortune in latinum!"

"An idea worthy of the Ferengi," Tom added playfully.

Dani crinkled her nose at Tom while Seven called the Captain, who was looking at their daughter as if she were observing a fascinating experiment. When she didn't answer, Seven leaned in closer. "Pips!"

Janeway's eyes widened. Seven had never called her that publicly, at least not on the ship. The name brought chuckles from B'Elanna and Tom, who rubbed the side of his mouth with his thumb.

"So, tell me," Tom said, in the classic opening of a set up for some unfortunate soul. "If the Captain is Pips, does that make you 'pipsqueak'?" He tweaked Dani's nose, earning a pint-sized death glare, while Janeway tried to suppress her laughter. Even Seven was amused by the question.

"I don't like that name," she hissed.

Janeway clicked her teeth and sat back, shaking her head. "Now you've done it, Dani m'girl."

"What have I done?"

"Saying you don't like a nickname is an open invitation," Janeway said. She playfully elbowed her spouse. "Isn't that so, Andy?"

"Indeed."

"Pipsqueak, it is," Tom said before taking another bite.

Dani crossed her arms petulantly. B'Elanna gave the girl a sympathetic look. But when Tom chuckled out loud, Dani bolted up and slammed her hands on the table.

"I'm going to school now," she said in clipped tones.

"We have not settled this evening's caretakers," Seven pointed out mildly.

Dani crossed her arms. "So can I stay with _B'Elanna_?"

The Chief Engineer glanced knowingly at her husband, raising an eyebrow for emphasis. Tom Paris shrugged.

Janeway inhaled. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather spend time with Naomi—"

"I'm totally sure," Dani replied. "Even some _aft hole_ lieutenant is better than—"

"Dani!" Janeway shouted.

Seven's "Eridani" was chiding but quieter.

B'Elanna nearly lost her milk through her nose. Tom dropped his fork.

"What did you call Lt. Paris?" Janeway snapped.

"_Aft_ hole," Dani said as innocently as she could. "What's wrong with that? It's just a part of the ship."

Janeway narrowed her eyes. "There is no such thing as an aft hole, Eridani Elizabeth Janeway."

"Sure there is. There's the aft thruster and right next to it is the—"

Janeway raised an edgy hand. "Stop, Dani." Janeway shook her head in alarm. "That's not what you meant and you _know_ it."

"Hey B'Elanna, are we sure we want a kid?" Tom asked, earning a frown from his wife and another glower from Dani.

"Apologize," Janeway said, enunciating every sound. "Now." Cappie's index finger pressed into the tritanium-top table.

Dani swallowed hard, staring at the finger.

"I said now, Dani." Janeway's gaze was sharp edged, but her voice was even and calm.

Dani jerked her head up to Tom Paris. "I'm sorry I called you an aft hole. I didn't mean to call you an aft hole, even though aft hole really isn't a real swear word. Not really. So I won't ever call you an aft again. Cross my heart."

Janeway worked her jaw. In the time she used to look around to see whether they were on anyone's radar, the corded vein at her neck had fallen. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Do it again," she said quietly.

"What?" Dani's crossed her arms in indignation. "I said I was sorry. What more is there to say?"

Janeway shook her head. "Your game isn't working. You know perfectly well your little comment was derogatory, whether it was pronounced correctly or not. Furthermore, half-hearted apologies are unacceptable."

Tom squared his drink with his fork and then laced his fingers in front of him. "Captain, it was my fault," he replied. "I provoked the kid."

"No, Tom. Dani has to learn to control her temper," Janeway said. Then she quirked a corner of her mouth and pointed a finger at the young couple. "Just like your daughter will have to learn, no doubt."

"That sounds like something Mrs. Janeway may have told you." Then B'Elanna did her most affecting southern accent, exaggerating the drawl. "'That Kathryn has a temper like a rattlesnake on a hot skillet.'"

Janeway gave her Chief Engineer an eye roll. "I'm from Indiana, not _Atlanta_, Lieutenant."

Dani's laughter was so loud and long, it grew silent until she exhaled with a sob. It also drew a second sardonic look from Cappie, who reached over and patted her back firmly.

"Easy there, Squeak. It isn't that funny."

The smile slid off of Dani's face.

"Squeak!" Tom declared. "That's perfect!"

"What's perfect?"

The question made Dani groan because its source was her arch-nemesis, Naomi Wildman, who looked expectantly between all the adults for a full explanation.

"Nothing," Dani said, as she tried to turn around.

Janeway caught her daughter's sleeve. "Not so fast, Dani. You still owe Mr. Paris a real apology."

Dani groaned as she leaned away from Cappie's grip.

"Captain," Tom said. "It's okay, really."

"No, Tom. Her character is developing as we speak and I don't want her to think she can get away with some creative wording, especially when you consider this provocation so minor." Janeway tugged lightly on Dani, who reluctantly turned toward the table.

"Something like what?" Naomi asked.

"Eridani called Mr. Paris an ass," Seven said.

Janeway's dismay was matched only by Dani's indignation. "Mom! Why'd you have to tell her?"

Seven looked around innocently. "I did not realize it was confidential."

"Geez!" Dani said under fingers splayed across her face. "And I didn't say ass. I said aft. A. F. T. Aft."

"Why would you do that?" Naomi asked, after studying the shrinking figure of her shipmate.

"Because I called her Pipsqueak," Tom said a little maniacally.

"Pipsqueak." Naomi tasted the word, repeating again.

Dani threw her hand down and looked at Tom. "Mr. Paris, I'm really, really, really sorry for what I said. Really sorry."

As she turned to go, Seven called out. "Eridani, please return your dishes to the recycling station."

Dani grunted, pivoted on one foot to grab her tray and sprinted to the recycling station across the room.

"She's pretty prickly," Naomi replied, as she watched her shipmate's mad dash across the Mess.

Seven finally stood up. "The time index for Voyager Academy is nearly upon us."

Naomi's eyes widened as she checked her chronometer. "Oh, man, I think I'm going to be late." She nodded to each adult in turn and wished them a good day before she dashed out.

Dani was fast on her heels, until Captain Janeway called her back. "Your mother and I thought we'd walk you to the holodeck."

"You don't have to walk me to class," Dani said. "I know the way."

"That's not the point." Janeway's reply lost all its patience. "And we _are_ walking you."

Dani watched the exit sliding closed behind Naomi. "Why does Naomi get to walk to the holodeck by herself?"

Janeway rolled her eyes again, threaded her arm through her daughter's and tugged her reluctantly along. "Oh, it's terrible, the things we make you do."

=/\=

The trio entered the turbolift in silence. Dani watched her feet, while her parents watched her.

"Deck 6," the Captain called out.

Dani was leaning against the lift plating, fingering the controls.

"You have once again become brooding and uncommunicative," Seven said. "As you were prior to breakfast."

"Why do you have to label everything?" Dani asked without looking up. "I'm not a petri dish or a spatial anemone."

"Anomaly," Seven corrected, tipping her head. "Cappie and I are both scientists. Labeling is the method we use to systematize."

Dani stood up and looked into her Borg mother's eyes. "I don't want to be systematized or quantified or lined up or put in order. I get plenty of that stuff."

"Then tell us, Dani," Janeway said softly. "What is it you need then?"

Both parents watched unshed tears fill her eyes and a veil of pain fall across her young face. She opened her mouth, but looked apologetically at Seven.

The turbolift dinged and called out "Deck 6" in its feminine voice. Dani brushed her forearm across her eyes and, before stepping out, she murmured: "Nothin'."

Her mothers marched double time to catch up with her. But the girl managed to keep a pace ahead and held her silence like a broken arm. At Holodeck Two, she barely mumbled a good bye to her parents' feet and entered the makeshift classroom.

Both women stared at the closed holodeck door. "I don't understand," Janeway sighed.

"Something is amiss," Seven replied.

"I'll say," she whispered. Janeway inhaled deeply and then slowly blew it out as she let her head loll backward.

"We should allow Eridani a cooling down phase," Seven said.

"Our separation tonight will be providential, given her reluctance to talk."

Seven reached for Janeway's hand. "You are fatigued," Seven said. "It is time for you to go to bed."

"All right, darling. All right. Your place or mine?"

Seven slipped her hands behind her back and nodded in the direction of home. "We will have to decide where to establish permanent residency. The Captain's Quarters or the VIP Quarters."

"That's easy," Janeway said. "The Captain's…" Janeway swallowed when Seven stopped. The Borg's gaze was laser-like in its intensity.

"Have you considered where we shall accommodate the children?"

"I suppose the living area would be out of the question."

Seven studied the Captain's face for a moment before replying. "You are attempting humor."

Janeway nodded once and tipped her chin in the direction they should go. "I am," she said. "I think it's obvious that I have to give up my quarters for the greater good."

Seven eyed her suspiciously. "The greater good?"

"Of course," she said. "As the Vulcans say, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one."

"I see," Seven said, strolling leisurely beside Janeway. "It is very noble of you, Captain."

"It's selfish," she said, sounding out every syllable.

Seven's head whipped around at the unanticipated comment. "How so?"

"Because I'm hoping to be rewarded. Intensely and gloriously _rewarded_."

Seven touched the controls to the VIP quarters and the door slid open. Seven threaded an arm through one of Kathryn's and they walked in side by side. "Oh, you will be compensated beyond your wildest imagination."

"My dreams can get pretty wild," Kathryn said as their bedroom door slid closed behind them.

Janeway felt herself warm at Seven's mysterious "Mona Lisa" smile. The younger woman tugged her toward the bed and began to undress her. She let her eyes close as she felt the loving hands tug her tunic open and then push it off.

Seven stepped closer as her hands slipped Kathryn's sleeves down behind her. The knowing hands went to unfasten her trousers, causing the Captain's middle to jerk.

"You're very good at this," she murmured, eyes still closed.

"And I shall become better," Seven replied, her attention rapt on the zipper.

Kathryn slitted her eyes to covertly watch her work. As with everything, Seven gave herself over to the work it required to undress her wife.

The cool air of their quarters hit Kathryn's thighs.

"Step," Seven ordered. Janeway obeyed.

The long, slender fingers trailed up the outsides of her thigh to find the hem of her undershirt. "Lift," the Borg ordered again. The Captain obeyed.

Seven affectionately patted the small swell forming in the Captain's lower abdomen. "It is gratifying to see the child's progress," she whispered.

Kathryn placed her own hand over Seven's warm one.

Then she heard rustling of linen and an order to lie down. When the linens covered her, Janeway opened her eyes inquiringly, satisfied to see Seven stripping down to underwear—pink bikinis. Kathryn chuckled once and then licked her lips to see the two creamy globes sway as Seven crawled on all fours toward the middle of the mattress.

"Do I amuse you?" Seven asked.

"Oh, no," Kathryn replied in a husky voice.

Seven adjusted herself to gather the Captain in her arms, one hand caressing her hip and their legs tangled. Kathryn murmured contentment deep in her throat as she settled into the embrace, reaching up to take a generous breast in her hand. She flicked it once with her thumb and her hand fell away.

"I'm sorry," she garbled against Seven's neck.

"For what do you apologize?"

"We're finally alone and I'm too exhausted to make love."

"You have apologized three times today," Seven said, after pressing her lips to Kathryn's forehead. "There will be many, many days and nights for us to make love, Kathryn. Just know that I am most happy to hold you while you sleep."

"Tha's good."

Seven stroked her auburn hair, but knew the woman was not giving in to fatigue.

"Seven," she whispered against her neck. "Remind me to check in with the Doctor. I promised to submit myself for a more thorough exam after my…exertions on your behalf."

"By exertions, you are referring to our Wedding Night or—"

"Very funny," she mumbled. "I meant the challenge for your hand in marriage."

"Ah, that exertion." Seven stroked the woman's bangs gently. "Perhaps we could also inquire about the baby's health."

"That's the main reason," she replied.

"We could also inquire about Eridani's behavior."

"And the rest of the children for that matter. Duke's growth rate was…frightening."

Her voice trailed off and the Captain lost consciousness in the arms of her new spouse.

=/\=

The ambient lights of their bedroom switched to bright and a syrupy feminine voice announced that it was eighteen hundred hours. Janeway covered her head with a blanket. "I thought I set that alarm to gradual lighting," she murmured against the pillow.

Seven stepped from the ensuite into the bedroom, looking down at the mussed and sleepy form of her wife. She felt a surge of affection tinged always with passion. But the feelings were not enough to spare Kathryn a dutiful, but gentle admonition.

"Incorrect. I adjusted the cycle to switch to full immediately," Seven said, drying her naked form. She retrieved a biosuit while she watched the pregnant figure of her wife lying in bed.

Janeway opened a single eye to look at her surroundings. "Oh, I did that in _my_ quarters."

"Your _former_ quarters," Seven pointed out.

"My former quarters," she mumbled, stretching both fists high over her head. "Good morning."

"Good evening," Seven replied, leaning on the bed to kiss Kathryn lightly on the lips.

Kathryn rolled to her side, propping her head up in a hand as she watched Seven's finishing touches. "Are you going to do that often? All of the corrections, I mean."

Seven's brow rose, but she kept her gaze intent on pulling up the biosuit over her legs. "I will not be required to," she replied. "Once you acquire sufficient regeneration, your errors will be reduced."

Janeway closed her eyes and let her head fall back. "Why can't you just say, 'Pips, get some more shut eye?'"

"That commentary does not remotely approximate a remark of mine. However…"

Her eyes still closed, Janeway let a corner of her mouth curl in amusement, knowing what a sucker Seven was for hypothetical scenarios.

"…In the interest of dialogue, if I were to have suggested such an action, you would have pulled rank…"

Seven rose to her full height and put her hands on her hips a la Captain Janeway. Then she deepened her voice when she said: "'I'm the Captain. Voyager will implode if I'm not on the bridge.'"

Janeway bolted up, her mouth open in mild shock. "I most certain would not say that!"

Seven adjusted her cuff. "Perhaps not directly—"

"Not at all!"

Seven offered a faint smile to smooth the ruffled feathers of her spouse. A knee mounted the mattress, followed by the other. She crawled to the middle of the creaking bed where Kathryn remained still slightly bemused. She cupped her cheek and kissed her tenderly. "It was hyperbole, my Kat." She kissed the woman again and this time, Kathryn kissed back. "To make a point."

"Point taken," she replied, wrapping her arms around Seven and hauling her down on top.

Seven rose to her elbows and brushed some stray auburn strands from her forehead. Kathryn rose to kiss Seven, tugging on the lower lip as she parted.

"Our time allotment is insufficient."

"But our shift doesn't start for another four hours."

"But I have made an appointment with the Doctor for you."

Kathryn frowned.

"As _you_ requested, last night."

"I can't imagine what kind of state I was in last night to voluntarily make that request." Kathryn threw her arms against the mattress, sighing heavily. "We just got married and already I can hardly find time with you."

"I am regretful as well, Kathryn. But there will be other moments."

"You keep promising me that."

"Indeed," she replied. "It is my intention to give you as many moments as possible for the rest of our lives."

"You say the sweetest things," Kathryn whispered, embracing the Borg lying on top of her.

Seven's open mouth descended on Kathryn's. For several wet, blissful moments they lost themselves in a soulful kiss that made them tremble to their toes. When Kathryn began to moan, Seven pulled back.

"There is insufficient time for more."

Kathryn's complaint was a throaty gurgle.

Seven sympathetically kissed her chin and jumped off the bed, straightening her biosuit. "You have exactly fifty-five minutes and ten seconds on my mark in which to dress," she replied, staring intently at the chronometer. "Mark."

Kathryn frowned, but pulled herself out of bed. "I've always appreciated precision, but…." The words died on her lips as she caught a perplexing reaction from Seven. "What?"

Seven's eyes—though always large and generally mellow—were the size of Bolian melons. Her full lips pressed together. Her chest rose and fell like she'd run a marathon on a gas giant. Her hands were balled into loose fits and her stance…. _Where have I seen that stance?_ Janeway thought. _Ah, one of the times she was angry that I beat her in Velocity. _

"What's the matter?"

Her face flushed back to a blank look and Seven turned to find her shoes. "Nothing is the matter."

Janeway tugged the woman's hand. "Please, Seven. Don't shut me out. Not now. Not today."

Seven searched the room, as if she'd misplaced something. But her posture was poised to remain standing there in front of Kathryn. "I have read much about romantic love and the nature of couples."

"Thirty gigaquads of data, as I remember."

"I have gleaned what I believe to be the proper role of a wife and yet…."

"You feel like you have to measure up to some idealistic notion of a wife?"

"No, not 'some idealistic notion,' but _your_ notion."

Kathryn softened her look. "Darling," she whispered. "I've never had a wife. I've never thought about having a wife. I never realized I needed one, until you came along. I only require that you be yourself."

"I was myself, when I became angry about Commander Chakotay's treatment of you…."

Janeway drew her lips into a thin line, but nodded and inclined her ear for Seven to continue.

"I was myself when I corrected you earlier and when I followed up on a medical request for you. Then again when I was informed you about the amount of time you had remaining. Yet, you were not satisfied."

Janeway inhaled deeply. "About the time and the appointment, I was kidding."

"Kidding?"

"Yes, a playful teasing."

"But you did not laugh."

She shrugged. "I can be a little dry sometimes. That's just me. But as for Commander Chakotay, that's ship's business. It is nothing personal and I will not allow him to make it so."

"It is personal to me. His treatment of you was hurtful to me."

Janeway touched Seven's cheek with the back of her fingers. "I know, Seven," she whispered. "I am not sure what I would do if he or anyone tried to harm you in anyway—no, I do know. I would try to protect you."

"As I want to for you."

"By doing so, you play into his illusions that it is personal. What we found together is beautiful and mutual and is wholly unrelated to our relationship to him. If he can't accept that, he'll never find his way back to the ship."

"You speak metaphorically," Seven said looking away.

Janeway knew it was a way to stall. Seven still needed more time. Janeway pinched her chin delicately and tipped her head, offering Seven a gentle kiss. "Yes and just know that I don't expect you to agree with me. But don't shut down."

"I ask that you be cautious."

Janeway's lips tugged into a crooked grin. "I always try to be."

=/\=

In sickbay, the Chief Medical Officer closed his tricorder, after running it along the contours of Captain Janeway's body. "It says you are in excellent health," the Doctor said. "And that Baby Girl Janeway is growing at average rates."

Janeway and Seven shared a look of relief at the news.

"Have you given any thoughts to a name? Although, I'm not the best one to ask about that arena. The difference being of course—"

"No, Doctor," Kathryn said, jumping down from the biobed and zipping her tunic. "We haven't had time to give it much thought."

"Doctor, when did the babies born here, such as Dukat Wildman, begin to exhibit extraordinary growth?" Seven asked.

"As soon as they were born," he said. "If that's what you're worried about, there really is no need to be. As with all of the children on Voyager, their pituitary gland is spitting out human growth hormone like it was white blood cells during Tarkalian flu season. If I tried to stop it, the treatment might be worse than the disease. They'll grow up faster, but as far as I or Dr. von Behring can see there have been no other ill side effects."

Captain Janeway scratched her chin as she measured her words. "Dani has been very moody and morose. Have you checked her recently?"

"As a matter of fact, Dr. von Behring did." He made a face. "It seems he's okay to interact with and I'm still hologram non grata for some odd reason. We are the exact same program. Surely the girl knows that."

"Doctor—"

"She even told him about how she'd savagely vandalized my image output. They had quite the bonding laugh over that little episode."

"What was Eridani in to see the Doctor about?" Seven asked.

"Oh, Lt. Tal Celes sent her in a couple of days ago because Dani was complaining about headaches."

"Headaches?" Both mother's alarm went straight to red alert.

"Do the headaches have anything to do with her Borg cerebral implant? And why weren't we notified?"

"You weren't notified because nothing checked out. Her vital signs were normal. Her implant appeared to be dormant. The two had a nice long chat…." The Chief Medical Officer bobbed his head sarcastically. "Like old friends."

Janeway rocked back to her heels. "Then what could explain her behavior?" She and Seven cited numerous examples.

The Captain found the Doctor's diagnosis frustrating.

"It's puberty, pure and simple."

"She grunts," the Captain clarified.

The Doctor stared up wistfully. "At this point, I could regale you about my own adolescences—"

"You didn't have an adolescences," Janeway said with an edge of annoyance. "You're a hologram."

He frowned at her. "I most certainly did! It started with my amnesia."

"You exceeded your memory capacity, as I recall. I'd hardly call that adolescence."

"I said _started_. Of course, while I was developing, I had to fight the Kazon Nistrim, rescuing the ship a number of times—"

"Is there a point, Doctor?" Janeway asked, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.

"Just like me, Dani is trying to individuate. I developed an interest in Opera and Dani has developed an interest in…" He waited expectantly for her answer.

Janeway winced. She had no idea what her daughter's interests were, beyond sullen silence and mischief at school. "Science!" she said triumphantly, remembering their exploits on Gweelee in the interests of knowledge. It was a love they both shared, but could hardly indulge on the ship. "Yes, science. Don't you think, Seven?"

Seven raised a brow. "Eridani has also become interested in the mechanics of…" She spared a look at her spouse. "Interpersonal relationships, particularly procreation."

Janeway turned three shades of red and had to lean into the biobed for support. "God, it _is_ puberty."

"I can certainly help in that arena. I developed a spiffy little program about reproduction for Seven. But we never got beyond the third slide, as I recall. I can dust it off and—"

"Doctor, I think Seven and I can field those questions ourselves, when she tells us she's ready. What I need is some explanation for her behavior."

"Dani needs for you to accept that she is different."

"But she is," Janeway replied with a puzzled expression.

"Yes, she is. She is different from you and she is different from your average child. But she wants you, Captain, to validate it."

"That's all?"

"That's easier said than done. It's too bad you can't talk to your own mother right now. I'm sure she could help jog your memory about your own emerging adolescence. Hormonally, it's a roller coaster ride."

What Janeway wouldn't give to hear her mother's voice. _It was just as well,_ she thought. Visions of being rejected by her traditionalist mother loomed large for Janeway.

With brutal willpower, Janeway slammed down those thoughts. She wasn't going to think of her mother. Right now, she had to focus on her daughter.

=/\=

Captain Janeway stepped into Holodeck Two. The running program was of a quaint country school with wooden desks in a single wooden room. Through the window panes, she could see a green meadow below snow-tipped mountains.

Lt. Tal came round her desk. "Captain! Did we have an appointment?"

Janeway looked around at the class. It was incongruous for them to be working on padds in the Victorian setting, but there was something so innately charming it made her smile. "Not at all, Lieutenant. I just had a couple of questions for you. Do you think you could spare a moment in the corridor?"

"Yes, of course." Tal turned to the six youths who comprised her students. "Be sure to read your history assignment while I step outside. I believe it's the Klingon Civil War chapter."

=/\=

Lt. Tal immediately crossed her arms as they turned to face each other. "Is there something wrong, Captain?"

"Well, that's what I'm here to find out."

"Did…is it something wrong with me?"

"Oh, no! Lieutenant. You are doing a marvelous job. I couldn't be happier. I'm here because of Dani. She's not seemed herself since we got back from the moon's surface. Have you noticed anything unusual?"

"I did send her to sick bay a few days ago."

"Tell me about that."

Lt. Tal related the events. "We were on a holographic replica of Voyager's bridge, reviewing some important emergency procedures when Dani started to look hypnotized. Have you seen her do that…." Tal lifted a fingertip to eye level and she focused on it, dragging it back and forth. "Her eyes just start to shift, left right, left right, left right—"

"I understand, Lieutenant, though I've never seen it."

"At first, I thought she was playing 'hara.'"

"I'm not familiar with that term."

"Oh, on Bajor, there is a cat species called hara that feign sleep to avoid predators."

"We have something like that on earth. Possum. So was Dani playing possum or hara?"

Lt. Tal smiled. "I believed so because…." The smile vanished and was replaced by tension. Tal looked away.

"Lieutenant?"

"I try to respect the emerging beliefs of the students, Captain. I am violating a trust by telling you this."

"I understand and as far as it doesn't impact the safety of this ship, I'll agree to keep it as well."

Tal nodded and took a deep breath. "Dani is not fond of lessons dealing directly with the ship or Starfleet. She said she hates—her word—Starfleet. So…I thought she was playing hara."

Janeway was pensive, looking at Tal but not seeing her. "Hm. Anything else, anything at all?"

"Since I'm spilling the Springwine, I believe several of her classmates are developing an…interest in her."

"An interest?"

Tal slammed her eyes shut. "A romantic interest?"

Janeway rubbed her lips together. She wanted to yell, "My daughter is eight!" But Tal knew that, of course.

The Captain considered getting the names of the swooning classmates, but decided against it. The temptation for a little motherly shakedown was too great.

"Does she seem to return this interest?" she finally managed to ask.

"I'm not sure. She's friendly with most of her classmates. All I've seen are friendly interactions."

"What about Naomi?"

Tal inhaled deeply. "Those two are like vinegar and oil."

"Rivals, I think."

Tal nodded. "I concur. I'm sorry I couldn't provide you anymore information."

Janeway lingered, though. "What about you?"

Tal was startled by the question. "We've always had a great working relationship. Dani is a great kid, Captain. I adore her—"

"She has a crush on you."

"On me?" Tal's voice squeaked a little. "I've never noticed. There's nothing inappropriate, Captain. I assure you!"

"Oh, Celes," Janeway said with a softer voice. "I didn't mean to imply there was. I just thought that you may have seen her interest and that she's too busy swooning over you to complete her assignments."

"Swooning?" Tal shook her head again. "I don't see it. She turns in her homework in a timely manner. And…" Tal frowned.

"What?"

"Billy and I—Crewman Telfer and I are engaged. We've been waiting for the right moment to announce it."

"A complication for someone who has a crush, certainly. But we've all lived through something like that." Janeway looked up belatedly. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you and we're not pregnant."

"That's makes one crewmember who isn't." Janeway chuckled as she stepped away. "Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, please let me know."

=/\=

Several weeks later, Janeway made her way to the Bridge one evening.

"_Tuvok to Captain Janeway."_

"Janeway here," she said as she ascended the turbolift.

"_I have concluded my investigation into the apparent Borg message you received regarding Seven of Nine's coordinates."_

"What did you find, Tuvok?" she said.

"_The trail was not difficult, once you discarded your paradigms. However, I must warn you that it involves your daughter."_

Janeway sighed and dropped her head. _Now what? _ "I'm on my way. Janeway out."

=/\=

Captain Janeway tossed the padd unceremoniously onto her desk. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. "Your certain Dani sent the message then?"

"I would not have filed my report with you if I were not certain, Captain."

"I know," she said quietly with a sigh. Lt. Commander Tuvok had been quite thorough with tracking the subspace message that Voyager received ostensibly from the Borg Collective several weeks ago with Seven of Nine's coordinates. He'd managed to track its reception on Voyager, its use of the Hirogen communication array and its origin inside the VIP quarters. The one thing remaining was the motive.

"Computer, locate Eridani Janeway."

"_Eridani Janeway is in the Captain's Quarters."_

She stood up, pulled down her tunic and nodded toward her Security Chief. "Mr. Tuvok," she said. "Follow me."

As they stepped out of her ready room, she looked over her shoulder without slowing down. "Mister Tuvok, you have the conn," she replied, as she headed toward the turbolift.

"Aye, Captain," was all she heard as the doors slid closed.

_Captain, captain, captain._ Janeway rubbed her head. "Now I know why most captain's aren't married." That wasn't fair to Seven, and she knew it. Their relationship wasn't the problem.

She groaned when she thought of Dani Janeway. She was eight going on fifteen, made all the more intense because of the shock of hormones pouring prematurely through her every growing body.

She stopped briefly at the door of her quarters, formerly the VIP quarters, to catch her breath. Then she barreled in, ready to meet whatever lay ahead.

Lt. Tal surprised her. She and Dani were sitting together playing Parises Squares and they both looked up. "Captain," Lt. Tal said. "I wasn't expecting you or Seven until much later."

Janeway smiled painfully, searching the living area for her partner. "Where is Seven?"

"Oh, she was called back to Astrometrics. I think a routine diagnostic uncovered some problems that couldn't wait. So she asked me to sit with your daughter."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Janeway said. "For helping out in those situations. It's difficult to find someone to help us."

Lt. Tal stood up, rubbing her palms along her thighs. "I better go," she said, smiling down at Dani. "You have homework, missy. And don't think I'll let it slide just because you were playing a game with me."

Dani blushed, and tipped her chin. "I'll get it done," she whispered.

As Tal walked toward the door, Dani accompanied her. Tal stopped and looked at her commanding officer. "Thank you, Captain—"

"Thank _you_, Lieutenant."

"Welcome." Then Tal patted Dani's shoulders. "Don't be late, Dani. And I'll see you in the morning."

Dani's reply of "With bells on" brought a brilliant smile to Tal's face. She waved and left. Dani continued to stare at the door for a minute too long.

"Are you okay?"

The contentment she held vanished. The girl grunted and started a trajectory toward her room.

"We need to talk."

Dani stopped and without turning around, asked, "About what?"

"Join me on the couch. Please."

Dani walked as slowly as she could toward the couch, taking the long way. Janeway had already seated herself on one couch, one leg crossed over the other and an arm dangled on the back. She watched her daughter's exasperating meander, but didn't let it get to her.

Dani finally found a seat on the other couch, as far from her mother as she could get and still be seated in the living area. She sat straight, looking toward the double large window in the bulkhead and away from her mother. And she waited.

"Before we begin, is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Janeway tipped her head and leaned forward, trying to catch her daughter's glance.

Dani's eyes darted around the window, corner to corner and then scanned the middle. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

"All right, then. More than several weeks ago, Voyager received a message." Janeway carefully studied Dani's reaction. "From the Borg."

Dani swallowed hard and nodded once, still looking away. "The Borg," Dani repeated.

"Dani," Janeway whispered. "It's hard to talk to you when you won't look at me."

Dani jerked her head toward her mother, blinking several times before shifting her focus to someplace to just the left of her eyes. Janeway unconsciously tugged her ear, wondering what was of interest there.

_What is she hiding?_ Janeway pulled forward, resting her elbows on her knees. The Captain peered up intensely, her eyes searching the familiar planes of her daughter's face.

"The message contained the _exact_ coordinates of your mother's location on the Boolarai moon."

Dani stared expressionless at her mother.

Janeway edged up on her seat. "It turns out the message was faked."

Dani stuffed her hands under seat and fell back. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Janeway said, rising from her seat. She walked over to her wife's workstation, punched in some keys. Her intense scrutiny of Dani made the girl squirm and she'd grown increasingly ashen.

"A simple numeric message was produced and cleverly masked with Borg encryption codes. Then the message was bounced off the Hirogen communications array."

Dani shifted in her seat and her gaze threaded off.

"It was sent from this terminal." Janeway stabbed the worktable with a single finger. "Using _your_ identity codes."

Dani slammed her head around, a leg vibrating like a misaligned conduit.

Her eyes rounded and she swallowed hard. "Maybe someone…"

Janeway narrowed her eyes, just a millimeter. It was enough of a warning shot that Dani let the words die on her lips.

She sat up, ramrod straight. Her eyes danced around the room.

Janeway inched closer. "How did you know where your mother was?"

Dani closed her eyes.

"Dani? Open your eyes and answer the question."

She opened her eyes. She made to talk but words didn't come out.

"Why have you lied to me?"

Dani's face hardened at the question. "Me? How come _you_ didn't invite me to your wedding?—" Janeway paled. "That's like lying, too. And why did…"

Dani brushed her eyes angrily, but she was unable to contain a loud sob. "Why did Naomi get to go, but not me?"

Janeway pulled back, inhaling deeply. This was a complication she did not anticipate. It was also the linchpin that explained the last few weeks' worth of surly comments and gruff answers.

Janeway started to tell her daughter that her safety was at stake and that was more important than anything. Yet the tears pooled in Dani's sky blue eyes said different.

Inside of her, the Captain warred with the Mother. For long minutes, Janeway heard the familiar thrum of the ship and her daughter's occasional sobs. The ship would get them all home. But this was her flesh and blood. Her father, Edward Janeway, had given everything for Starfleet. There was little left for Katie Janeway and her sister, Phoebe. _I will not be my father_, she thought.

Finally, Kathryn moved to sit beside her daughter, pulling her close. She pressed her daughter's ear against her shoulder and rubbed her head. "Dani," she whispered. "Is that what has been bothering you for the last few weeks?"

"Two weeks, five days and…" Dani glanced at the chronometer. "Seven hours and thirty-seven minutes."

"We are so sorry, Dani. We just…." _We just what?_ she thought. _Never considered her? Didn't think about inviting her? _To Janeway's mind, the excuses seemed to make everything worse. None of them would mitigate the pain they had caused. "A great deal of turmoil happened on the moon prior to the actual ceremony. Then I was trying to make sure that the Boolarai ceremony didn't include some needlessly harmful rituals and…"

Janeway pulled the quietly weeping child into a tight embrace. "They are all just excuses, my darling girl. It was a horrible mistake. It means only that your parents are imperfect. But we love you very much."

At the last word, Dani melted into Janeway and sobbed, tears wetting them both. "Oh, baby," Janeway said, holding her tight. "It's okay, Dani."

After a few moments, Dani's sobs began to subside. Janeway handed her daughter a gray handkerchief with the Starfleet logo in one corner.

Janeway pulled back to search her daughter's face. As far as little Dani Janeway knew, they _were_ married. It's why she and Seven had held to the pretense earlier in their parental relationship. It's why they set up "house" on Gweelee. The pieces of the puzzle—the ones that kept her on an uneven ground with her daughter—they were beginning to take shape. But the fuzzy picture Janeway could see was beginning to terrify her more than the unknown. But that would have to wait.

Janeway was slow to speak, picking each word with care. "We were under the impression that you believed we were married."

Dani's face went blank. The grief just vanished, replaced by something more adult. Janeway mapped the emotion at the young girl's eyes, circled in dark rings.

"Was I wrong?"

Dani tried to pull away, but Janeway held her still. "No, Dani," she replied. "I think we've got a lot to talk about. I need you to stay with me, hmm?"

Dani flicked her eyes up, giving her a pleading expression.

"Dani?" Kathryn whispered. "Talk to me."

With her eyes still lifted up, Dani's voice broke. "You'll be mad."

Kathryn took the girl's strong chin, so like her own, between a thumb and finger. She gently tipped her face. "Tell me anyway."

Dani brushed a wet eyelash with her knuckle. "What was the question again?"

"For starters, how did you know where your mother was?"

Dani's whole body sagged and tears began a fresh path down her cheeks. "Um…."

Kathryn drew back to study the girl. Disturbing questions came to mind, ones she'd shoved down. Who was Dani Janeway really? Could a child manipulate DNA? "Or we could even start at the beginning. How did you know where Voyager was in Delta Quadrant? Are our timelines that similar?"

Dani shrugged a shoulder, tipping her head into it. The Captain knew that as her daughter's way of trying to hide without running away. Kathryn inhaled deeply, relinquishing the girl. She'd lost control. She was talking to her daughter as if she were a spy.

Dani leaned back on the couch. The pair stared at each other. Kathryn finally laid a calm hand on her daughter's knee. "Let's start over. How did you know where your mother was being held? And why didn't you just tell me?"

Dani looked down at her gathered fingers. "Someone told me."

Kathryn shot up to her feet. "Who?"

Dani shrank back. Tears spilled again from her red-rimmed eyes.

Kathryn covered her mouth with a hand and watched as Dani's shaking fist brushed her tears. She sat down again beside the girl and took her hand, kissing the knuckles. "Dani, I'm scared for you, baby. That's all. Try to answer."

"I don't know," she whispered. In another breath, Dani explained about the text messages she received.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Dani groaned and rubbed her face with both hands.

Kathryn drew her back. "How do you know the messages are real?"

"Because they're right! Mom was where she was. Your sickness was…" Dani trailed off, her eyes wide in alarm.

"You mean that you knew about what was wrong with me on the planet?"

"Not me," Dani clarified again. "The messages. I told…" Dani turned away again.

Kathryn filled in the blanks, clarity shedding light on the puzzle. "You told your mother."

Just then Seven of Nine strode into their quarters and stopped. Her eyes tracked to Dani's puffy eyes and her trembling hands. Then Seven gauged the tension around her wife's face.

Dani rushed to her feet, throwing herself into Seven's body. "I'm sorry, Mom," she mumbled against the blue biosuit.

Seven rubbed the girl's back and scrutinized the Captain, a resigned expression on her face. "It is fine, Eridani," she said. "I will explain the rest."

Dani looked up with tear-soaked cheeks. "Can I go now?"

"Yes," Seven said.

"No!" Janeway replied.

Janeway stood up, looking down at the indentations she and Dani had created on the couch. She was fully Captain now. The internal mother was a distant echo within. The Captain was responsible for everyone's safety, including her family. She had to be the Captain. It was paramount.

"I would like for us all to speak together about it," she replied. "I want to be…caught up." She'd gentled her voice, trying to avert another explosion.

Seven looked down and smoothed the worry lines from Dani's brows. "It is time, Eridani."

The girl dropped her arms in acquiescence and was led by the hand to sit on a couch. She flung herself next to her Borg mother, eyeing Janeway warily across the room.

Seven began a brief history of Dani's communications from her Borg implant. She kept her voice neutral, as if she were reciting a routine systems check report.

But Janeway began to pace, growing more agitated with every passing second.

"Who is supplying this information?"

"The informant is unknown," Seven said.

"Unknown," Janeway said in a faraway voice. She scratched her head. "Weren't you concerned about the information and its accuracy?"

Seven lifted a brow. "Perhaps it is from the future."

"The future!" Janeway stopped, horror etched on her face. "Do you know how many Starfleet regulations that violates? Not to mention the big one—the Temporal Prime Directive!"

"We are not Starfleet—Dani and I."

"But I am, dammit! Did you think of that?"

"Indeed," Seven said. "That is why I instructed our daughter to keep the information strictly confidential."

"Even from me?"

"It was…_necessary_."

Janeway's jaw muscles rippled as she bit back on her molars. She dropped her face in her hand, massaging her temples for a moment. When she looked up finally, she was composed again. "When we return to Federation space, I will have a lot of explaining to do," she replied softly.

"When that time comes, I will stand with you, Kathryn."

Kathryn's gaze tracked back to Dani, who was leaning on her mother's bicep, her eyes drooping in fatigue.

"So did these mysterious communications have anything to do with trying to capture the photonic energy a few weeks ago?"

Dani looked up and pursed her lips. "Yeah," she said. "I was told to try."

Kathryn considered what they'd learned from the incident, though not enough at this point to secure themselves or the ship from them. But it was certainly more than her bridge officers had managed to find.

"Did these text messages reveal anything else about the photonic anomaly?"

Dani shook her head. "Just the once."

"So you heeded the text message and tried to capture one."

"I didn't want to," Dani pointed out. "But I did and I was punished."

"Oh, my little love," Janeway whispered, inaudible to the girl. But she and Seven shared a meaningful look.

Kathryn walked cautiously toward the girl, sitting nearby but not too close if Dani was reluctant. But Dani's hopeful face looked into Kathryn's and the corners of her mouth just edged up, ever so faintly.

"I wish you would have told me—but I understand why you didn't," Cappie said.

"Am I going to be grounded?" she whispered.

Cappie laughed quietly, letting her fingertips run along the girl's jaw line. "Not today." She laid a hand on the girl's knee. "I've been so hard on you. I didn't know about the messages. I hope you can forgive me."

Dani shrugged, as she allowed a fingertip to graze the seam of the Captain's tunic sleeve.

"You're the only Cappie I have," she whispered.

Janeway engulfed the girl in a forceful hug, before she'd even finished speaking. "Oh, Dani," she whispered into her ear. For the first time, Kathryn understood the weight of what the child bore on her shoulders.

"I think I was fumbling in the dark before," she admitted. "I don't like running into walls."

"That's why I tried to help," Dani agreed.

"You and some mysterious person or entity out there." Janeway gestured toward the window, trying to keep her growing alarm from showing.

Kathryn released the girl and wiped a tear that had rudely fallen. "Promise though. No more secrets."

Dani sniffled. "Not a chance," she said.

=/\=

After they'd finished the discussion with Dani, Seven went to tuck their daughter in bed. When she returned, she found Kathryn hugging herself as she gazed out the porthole at the distorted star field.

Seven came to rest just behind Kathryn.

"Don't," Kathryn hissed. "Don't touch me, Seven."

Seven held out a glass of milk, that Kathryn accepted, murmuring her appreciation with the first drink. Her belly was protruding well past her breasts now and her body ached in the most ridiculous places. But tonight, Kathryn was focused on the ache in her heart.

"You have lied to me for most our relationship." As she turned, Seven could see the banishment of Kathryn the woman in favor of the Captain. "Did you realize that?"

"That is a distortion."

Kathryn's face contorted. Seven recognized the frustration but it turned quickly into something else. Anguish. Three small lines between her spouse's eyebrows furrowed deeply. She wanted to smooth them away with her lips. But she also recognized the famous Janeway fury.

Kathryn flushed under the Borg scrutiny and she firmed her jaw. "Why? Why did you lie to me for the past six months?"

Seven closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. Perfect images of that moment in Gweelee City's plaza when Eridani had revealed one of her secrets played like a holovid against her visual centers. Eridani seemed so young then, compared to now.

"Seven?"

Seven opened her blue eyes and inhaled deeply.

Kathryn was aware that Seven was not prone to the usual human habits of anxiety. So for her to display them meant she'd lowered her shields.

"Kathryn, do you recall our mission almost eighteen months ago for the U.S.S. Relativity?"

Kathryn squinted. "Relativity." She said the word slowly as if it didn't ring a bell.

Seven waited, knowing that her own memories of that particular mission were fuzzy, despite her eidetic memory. Two Seven of Nines had to be reintegrated from several timelines. Only her Borg technology had allowed her to retain the memories of the intact timeline. It was a strange mission from Captain Braxton, a Starfleet officer who served 500 years in the future. He'd contracted temporal psychosis and was attempting to destroy Voyager, unbeknownst to his earlier self.

"What about Captain Braxton?"

Kathryn's eyes lit up. "Yes, I know him. He…" She turned wide eyes on Seven and her face lit up as memories spilled into her consciousness. "We prevented a self-serving Starfleet officer from the future from destroying Voyager."

"Tempus…"

"Fugit."

Seven nodded gratified that Kathryn could finish a maxim that Braxton had evoked.

"What does that have to do with our dilemma?"

"During my briefing, Captain Braxton warned me about the Janeway Factor."

Kathryn's eyebrows became angular scrawls above her eyes. "Never heard of it."

"You would not have. It was a personal theory Braxton had developed to explain your major timeline incursions."

"Timeline incursions? I've never—"

"You changed the timeline at least three times, according to Braxton. In each case, he had to repair the damage you created, which in turn caused his mental lapse."

"But I don't remember."

"No, you would not have recalled how you set Voyager on a collision course with a Krenim timeship."

Kathryn shocked expression told Seven that her wife had no recollection of the events. "But I can't remember doing that and if I did, why are we are on Voyager now?"

"Your suicide mission reset the timeline."

Kathryn plunked herself down hard on a sofa, deeply disturbed by the news. "I can't even imagine under what circumstances I would have considered that an acceptable alternative."

"You had been warring with the Krenim timeship for a year. Voyager was damaged beyond repair. You had scattered the crew."

"Scattered the crew?"

"You were the only one to remain behind on the ship during this last assault. Your weapons were taken offline and your shields had failed."

Kathryn blew out a slow breath.

"Your bravery returned space-time, saving hundreds of worlds from the ill effects of the Krenim timeship."

She shook her head. "I vaguely remember Braxton and…" Kathryn looked up at Seven. "Our involvement. But I really don't remember the Krenim timeship. How can you?"

"Braxton detailed your time incursions during my training period," she said, she sat beside Kathryn, putting them knee to knee. "In any case, Captain Braxton referred to the Janeway Factor, where you—and I quote—have a knack for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, especially when it comes to time travel."

The comment brought a thoughtful look. "But I'm a Starfleet Captain. My oath was to uphold the Temporal Prime Directive, along with other regulations. I would not have just flaunted time itself for convenience or whim, especially when it comes to my crew!"

Seven smiled, leaning closer. "And I am your wife. I have been your wife, legal or not, since the first day we made love. I would not have just flaunted time, Starfleet regulations or my pledge to you for any convenience or whim, especially when it comes to my family."

Seven reached out slowly to lightly touch her fingertips to Kathryn's knees, half fearful that she would pull away. She smiled faintly when the Captain did not.

"My motivations were many, including the need to protect Eridani—"

"I understand that, Seven. I want to protect her, too. But how do you know that these messages she receives are from a benign source?"

"I have only the record of the warnings she has received. They have protected her life and yours at every turn."

"What is the source of the information?"

"By my readings, the messages originate within the Borg cerebral implant."

"Inside? You mean there are no transmissions, EM bands, subspace readings?"

"None on any known scale."

Kathryn stared at Dani's door. Her expression was both pensive and alarmed. "I want to protect Dani, too," she whispered, finally looking back at the Borg. "Being kept in the dark…" Kathryn's face twisted into a pained expression. "Has left me with a severe disadvantage."

"Words cannot express my contrition," she said. "However, it was a calculated risk because, as you have taught me, at times, Logic fails."

Janeway quirked a corner of her mouth. "I can't believe you—of all people—just said that."

"I must admit that I am unsettled to consider that logical has is flaws and limits. But if it did not, you and I would not be married."

"Mm, touché," the Captain whispered finally. She took a step toward her spouse. "Can you at least understand how it feels to know that your own wife lied to you for nearly eight months?"

"I cannot undo any of it," Seven said regretfully.

Kathryn eyed her from the corner of her eye. "I don't believe I'd wish it, even if you could."

Seven fidgeted a little. "Could you ever forgive me for the violation of trust?"

"I would not have preferred your plan, but as you have ably and subtly pointed out, you were faced with decisions that I cannot possibly know in retrospect."

"Is that an affirmative?"

Kathryn reached up and ran a finger along Seven's jaw line, lingering at the chin divit. "How can I not forgive you?" she whispered. "You are the only Seven I have."

Seven took Kathryn's face between her hands. She gently pressed their lips together and then enfolded the Captain in her arms. "Thank you."

=/\=

Kathryn and Seven made love slowly, treasuring each touch, savoring each kiss and reaching a climax together with much mutual oral attention.

In the afterglow, Kathryn and Seven stretched out together, leisurely on their own bed. Kathryn propped a head up and glanced down at her wife whose eyes were closed in an uncharacteristic look of repose.

Kathryn tapped Seven's thigh. "If you turn over, I'll scratch your back."

Seven's eyes snapped open and she couldn't move fast enough to roll over. "I find your back scratches to be nearly as satisfying as holding you in my arms."

Kathryn laughed before she kissed a sinewy shoulder. She lightly dragged her fingernails from the woman's thigh up across her ass cheek, drawing a loud moan. Seven seemed to need a great deal of physical affection before and after making love. Kathryn surmised that it was the effects of being deprived of basic human touch from the time she was six years old until just two years ago.

When Kathryn drew her nails down for a second pass, the moans of appreciation were greater. "I love you," Seven murmured against the pillow.

"Oh, darling," she replied. "And I adore you." She kissed the woman's ribs, just beside her breast. Then suddenly Kathryn giggled.

"Did my skin tickle your lips?"

As she continued to scratch Seven's long body, Kathryn laid her cheek on Seven's back. "A vision of you in a Starfleet science uniform came to mind. It was a fuzzy dream, so maybe I'm hallucinating but—"

"Braxton outfitted me in a Starfleet uniform as an ensign."

"Ah," she said, closing her eyes at the vision. "It wasn't a dream."

"No, it was not. As I recall the uniform was excessively layered and the fabric was abrasive."

"Ah, poor baby," she said in a syrupy voice.

"You are mocking me."

Kathryn giggled against her back. "Only because I love you."

"That is a contradiction."

"Not at all," she said. "How many times have you done the same to me?"

"Exactly zero."

Kathryn laughed lightly at her wife's penchant for precision. "If you don't correct your answer, I will be forced to apply my digit to your funny bone."

"Borg do not possess _funny_ bones." Seven raised herself up, looking at Kathryn over the shoulder.

The woman's hair was mussed and she looked absolutely breath-taking.

"However in the interests of harmony," Seven said, "I will accede that I may—on occasion—seek to provoke you."

"That's better," Kathryn whispered. "Now back down so I may finish."

Suddenly, the red alert klaxon sounds. "Janeway to Bridge, report!"

"_Captain, Ayala here. The lights are back! They just appeared out of nowhere only a few seconds ago."_

"How are they reacting?" By this time, defying post-coital fatigue, she'd jumped out of bed, and was nearly halfway dressed, as was Seven of Nine.

"_There are orange red lights attempting to navigate toward Voyager and white lights swarming them."_

"I'm on my way."

At the door, Janeway and Seven managed a hurried kiss whose target was fifty percent off the intended mark. "Be vigilant, Kathryn," Seven said, on her way to Dani, who stood at the door of her room in alarm.

"I always try to be," she said, blowing a kiss to Dani on her rush to the bridge. "It'll be okay, baby. I'll see you soon."

"Love you, Cappie!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as the door slid closed behind her mother.

"She loves you very much, Eridani," Seven said, drawing her close. "As do I."

Dani buried her face into her mother. "Mom," she murmured. "I think you should tell Cappie to get everybody home from the surface."

Seven pulled away and searched her face. "Did you receive another message?"

She nodded. "Four words. 'Shuttle crew back now.'"

"A rushed message," Seven mused. "Was this message delivered at what time index?"

"At the first note of the red alert."

=/\=

Captain Janeway and the Bridge Officers watched with alarm as a million billion lights darted on the viewscreen. Her eyes shifted quickly, but the incredible speed of the light and Voyager's own deep shudders made deciphering any pattern nearly impossible.

"Shields down to 75 percent, Captain," Tuvok said.

"Acknowledged," she said. "Some of the lights are shifting to orange and red from yellow, while others remained white. This is not the scenario we recorded on the holodeck. Under the exertion of trying to escape an eight-year-old and her Borg friends, the light shifted from white to yellow then orange."

Janeway's fingertips rubbed her lips. "Ensign Mulcahey, do the energy outputs differ based on color?" Janeway asked the crewman at the science station.

He pressed several keys. "No, Captain, they seem to be putting out massive amounts of EM radiation, consistent with our findings."

The ship began to shake more violently from an assault of orange lights on the port side.

"Shields down to 50 percent, Captain," Tuvok said.

"Divert secondary power to the shields, Mr. Tuvok!"

"Look, Captain!" Ayala pointed to the lower left of the viewscreen. "Those white lights are swarming the oranges as they assault our shields."

"_Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."_

Still intent on the screen, Janeway answered. "Go ahead."

"_Twenty-four crewmembers remain on the moon's surface." _

Janeway raised an eyebrow at the odd message from her spouse. She crossed her arms, watching the light interactions multiply. Soon, the orange lights outnumbered the white, battering Voyager's shields mercilessly.

Voyager was being dragged from its orbit around the Boolarai moon. "Janeway to Voyager personnel on the surface, scramble the shuttles! The lights are trying to tow Voyager from orbit. We'll hold out as long as we can."

Janeway received a grainy, distorted acknowledgement from the surface.

"Janeway to Transporter Room, as soon as those shuttles are out of the Boolarai moon interference, I want an emergency beam out of all Voyager personnel!"

"_Aye, Captain."_

"Ensign Baytart," Janeway said. "Once the crew is aboard, I want you to tractor those shuttles. The lights will tow us. We'll tow them. I don't want to lose them unless we have no choice."

"I'll do my best, Captain."

"Mister Ayala, I want you at the helm."

Baytart yielded the station, finding another one for the tractor beam operation. Ayala began to touch keys on the console.

"Reverse engines, full impulse," Janeway ordered.

"Reversing engines."

Voyager whined and its hull shuddered under the strain.

"We are still moving away from the planet, Captain," Tuvok reported. "Our acceleration away from orbit has slowed to only 1 million KPH."

Janeway frowned. "Janeway to Engineering."

"_Torres here, Captain."_

"I want to reverse engines to warp 3."

"_That's going to put a huge strain on warp manifolds."_

"I need everything Voyager can give me," she snapped.

"_Aye, Captain."_

"Mister Ayala, jump to warp 2 on my mark."

He offered a grave look. The faint memory of what happened when they tried to resist the lights the last time surfaced. "Aye, Captain."

"Mark!" Voyager's shudders became seismic tremors on a magnitude they'd never experienced before. Conduits began to pop on the bridge, sending sparks flying across the deck. Plasma began to vent onto the bridge.

"Damage reports are coming in all over the ship, Captain," Tuvok said.

"Reroute all available—except shields—to the warp engine."

The Bridge crew could still see the blue moon in the viewscreen and that was something.

"Status of away team?"

"They are breaking the ionosphere," Mr. Kim shouted.

"Just a little more," Janeway murmured to the ship. "Mr. Kim, hail the Boolarai."

The viewscreen flickered and distorted the image of the Chief Minister Svante. _"Dagecki!…an Amai Sadakee attack! The colors…are magnificent. But they…war. Never seen…"_

"We regret to be dragged away before we were done."

"_May the Amai Sadakee safeguard your journey."_

"Thank you for your hospitality, Svante. Janeway out."

"Shields are failing, Captain."

"Route life support to the shields!" She happened to glance back to get a concerned look from the Vulcan. "Do it!"

"_Captain Janeway, we've got the away teams."_

"I've tractored the shuttles, Captain," Baytart shouted.

"Tuvok, status of inertial dampners."

"They are operational."

She nodded once. "Mr. Ayala, cut the engines."

"Cutting the engines."

With the touch of his hand, the crew lurched backward, some falling back.

"Captain, we are nearly 90 percent of the speed of light," Tuvok reported.

Janeway leaned forward, her hands squeezing the armrest of the command chair. "Damn these lights," she whispered. Then Janeway sobered again. "Reroute power back to life support."

Janeway and the Bridge crew watched the stars distort to long streaks of lights while they were hauled against their will to God-knows-where.

=/\=

Captain Janeway was leaning over a table in the upper deck of her Ready Room, pouring herself some tea when the door chimed. "Come!"

A tense Commander Chakotay stepped through, holding a crystal skull. "Good afternoon, Captain."

"Hello, Commander," she replied, gesturing for a sofa opposite her.

He took the stairs two at a time to join her, setting the skull by the teapot.

"Tea?"

He hesitated a moment in mid sitting. Finally, something in him relaxed. "Yes, please."

She poured it for him, offering him a delicate cup and saucer to his massive hand. She took her seat, crossing her legs as she came to rest and immediately took a sip. "It's decaf," she said, struggling hard not to show the disdain she felt for a drink with steam power when she was used to warp power.

His eyes flashed a quick glint and disappeared. "Hmm, it's good."

She gave him a chiding look, but decided against going any further. He'd been particularly distraught to have his decision to remain on Boolarai ripped from him, but he felt compelled to pilot one of the shuttles.

"How are you managing, Chakotay?"

"Well, let's put it this way, the Doctor's hasn't congratulated himself yet on finding a cure for my depression."

Janeway didn't laugh. Instead she marked the circles of his eyes and the lines on his face. "I wish we could take you back there."

He lifted a brow. "I think ten light years is a little out of your way."

She involuntarily looked out at the sparse constellation of stars. "I think we are as far from Earth as we were three years ago. A dubious accomplishment for a captain." Without thinking, Janeway asked, "Have you seen the latest Astrometrics charts?"

His frown made her turn back to the stars. Oops.

She heard him adjust on the sofa and clear his throat. "No, I haven't managed to get by."

Janeway set her cup down. "What the hell are we doing out here, Chakotay?"

"It's pretty clear the lights want us out here."

"What did you manage to find out about the skulls and how they work?"

"The crystals vibrate at a steady resonance," he replied. "As I remember, there were only twelve on earth."

"Is that significant?"

"The Boolarai summon the messengers with 13."

"For what purpose?" she asked as she handed the weighty skull back.

"For blessings," he replied crossly.

Janeway's mind darted. She wanted off that track. There was no way she was going to talk about her wedding. "Surely it isn't merely religious."

"No," he replied. "Just like our ancestors, the Boolarai believe the messengers bring in the seasons and keep the universe in perfect equilibrium."

She smirked. "Like the 'sun god' rode his chariot across the sky every day," she replied. "I don't need myths, Chakotay."

"Myths are based in observations of the natural world," he reminded her. "Their ultimate hypotheses might be wrong, but not the initial observations."

"So what? The lights are beneficial. To them. Have they ever observed an attack like we experienced?"

Chakotay let the skull drop to his thigh, held tightly by his large grip. "No, they seemed baffled by that. They have no recorded event where the messengers were actively belligerent."

Janeway scratched her forehead. "Maybe they are different somehow."

"That's a possibility we discussed. They've never seen the beings change colors or try directly to communicate with them. Maybe they have species, as we do."

Janeway looked up to study the man. His eyes were rimmed in red and he appeared gaunt. "What would you suggest for our course of action then?"

He retrieved the skull, holding out for the Captain to take. "This is the first skull we've replicated to precise and exacting measurements. They have an extremely complex atomic structure. The computer is materializing another as we speak. The huge energy reserve required to do just one means we'll have to space the thirteen out for the next six months, at least."

She got a pained look. "Then what?"

He shrugged. "See if we can summon them. Figure out a way to communicate."

"How do you communicate with light beings?"

"That's the other piece we'll work on."

She nodded. "When we come to an M class planet, will you choose to disembark?"

"I don't know," he said after a long moment.

Janeway finally sat back. "I want to tell you a story. Shall I freshen your tea before I begin?"

She poured some into both their cups and sat back. "There was once a woman warrior with a small tribe—"

"I think I've heard this before," he said with a half smile. His mind was flooded with memories of the time they were stranded on a planet alone together because they'd contracted some incurable disease.

"Not this one," she said. "So let me finish, hm?"

He nodded graciously.

"So this woman warrior was called on to hunt down a warrior of another tribe. This warrior had offended many, but he'd remained true to his convictions against all odds."

"He sounds like a loner."

Janeway faintly curled a corner of her mouth, but continued on as if uninterrupted. "Together they formed an alliance great enough to withstand sieges of the most fearsome of enemies."

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. Chakotay was intense.

"At one time, a devastating illness had intervened on a lonely island planet where they were stranded by their tribe. They could have become…lovers." Janeway found it difficult to maintain her eye contact, but she inhaled, counting to three before continuing. "Maybe even have children together."

He nodded, glancing down at his shoes. "I remember," he whispered.

"But their fate was the war path, not marriage in a foreign land. The obsession for home sustained them both however and their friendship endured. But their passions fell elsewhere: she with her ship and he with a beautiful maiden they'd rescued."

Chakotay sobered and he leaned back in his chair.

"The maiden changed her mind." Janeway paused for Chakotay's small wince.

"The woman warrior stood on one shore and the man on the other, divided by a raging river. The woman gestured with her whole heart for the warrior to return, but he sat down on the sandy shore, away from shade and fire."

"What happens now, Kathryn?"

"I'm not done," she replied. "The seasons changed, as the seasons do. The rains came. They drenched the warrior. The snows came. They nipped the angry warrior unmercifully. But he lingered by the river of rage, alone, without companionship or clothing, for that matter."

"And the woman warrior?" He asked, tipping his head in curiosity.

"She was joyful to see the angry warrior's sons and daughters grow strong but she wept…" Janeway's voice broke, her expression earnest and vulnerable. "Wept bitterly for her lost friend that he would not accept this joy that was rightfully his. "

He blinked furiously, as his eyes welled. Captain Janeway did not feel the need to contain hers. She pulled forward to the edge of the sofa. "Chakotay, I want you to stay with us. I want us to arrive home—together. We've been to hell and back. Please don't abandon us."

"But the women, I used them and I hurt them. Most are going to have my children and they can't stand the sight of me."

"Marla talks to you."

"Pity, I think."

Janeway did not see any pity. She saw the grief in Marla Gilmore's eyes, maybe more. He believes his victims pity him, when he should be the one who should… Janeway straightened. "You know I grew up among traditionalists."

He was confused by the change of topic, but it allowed him to tamp down his pain. "Yes, of course."

"There were many who refused to get implants to control their addictions—now hear me out. I'm not going to say what you think I'm going to say, okay?"

He nodded after a long moment and then shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"They submitted themselves to a weekly ritual to rid themselves of these cravings. The ritual was called a 12-step program and it doesn't involve a spirit guide."

Chakotay's eyes crinkled in appreciation of the jest.

"One of the steps was to make amends to everyone they'd hurt while trying to satisfy their addiction. Have you…ever considered this? The part about making amends, I mean."

"I—I thought my crimes were too far gone. I never imagined anyone could forgive me."

"Imagine it, Chakotay. For the sake of your children."


	11. Epilogue: Labor of Love

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all my reviewers, starting with Angel's Fallen Knight who gives me so much encouragement she's become my favorite Left-tenant. Ha. Ha. I know it's a little juvenile to list all ya'll here, but I'm gonna. I rarely do that and it's because I really, really appreciate your encouragement. These stories take a LOT of time to write because of the science research part and it's nice of you to invest some time to say thanks by leaving a review. So thank _you_ for making the process enjoyable: Misdirection, Traces_of_Being, MirandaMinerva, Nightwing 503, Hotandcoldwulf, Omega Hawkeye, Trackerpuppy, Twitrek23, Veritas 31, RedandBlonde, Ifuritka, Inditonk, Alex R. Bold, Sabriel99, Lurmez and Beaumont Santana.

Enjoy. I had a total blast writing this chapter. I hope you like it and the story so far.

**Quantum of Chaos**

**Epilogue: Labor of Love**

The morning watch flicked on, brightening the bedroom of Kathryn Janeway and Seven of Nine. Janeway turned awkwardly from the wall light, burrowing her face into Seven's back while nestling further under the covers.

"I believe every passing day it is increasingly difficult to wake you, Kathryn."

"I'm tired," she huffed in her gravelly morning voice.

"You have slept ten hours each night for the last twelve."

"Your baby likes to kick me."

Seven turned, pulling as close to Kathryn as her enormous belly would allow. She rubbed it, feeling a thud against her palm. "Ah, she kicks me as well."

"I almost wished she'd grow as fast in the womb as some of the kids grow after birth," Kathryn said. "Then I'd be done with this gestating business."

"The Doctor estimates another week."

"I could've smashed his holo-emitters."

When her wife didn't respond, Kathryn looked up, opening one eye. "I'm kidding, of course."

"Many of the crew believe your irascible nature of late is indicative of a much delayed delivery."

Kathryn frowned. "That's an old wives tale, or it better be at any rate," she hissed. "I'm not sure I can take much more of this."

"Thirty five women have delivered already. They have taken the full measure of pregnancy and survived," Seven reasoned. "Forty-four will be delivered—"

"That's a horrible thing to say," Kathryn said. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I _am_ on your side." Seven leaned in and kissed pouty, unresponsive lips.

"My back hurts."

"Shall I rub your back?"

"No, then I'd have to sit up and that would make my head hurt."

"Then your head will hurt in approximately—"

The alarm chimed a reminder that alpha shift would commence in seventy-five minutes.

Janeway kissed the meaty flesh just above Seven's breast and slowly rolled over. She sat up, swaying slightly because her center of gravity had shifted overnight it seemed. She sighed heavily and hauled herself up.

Her belly was of normal circumference for someone who was thirty-nine weeks pregnant. But Kathryn was sure that no one had ever been this big, except the Delaney sisters who'd each given birth to a set of twins only a month ago. The two sets were now walking, talking rugrats nearly a meter high.

Janeway leaned back, scratching her protrusion and waddled to the ensuite. She emerged sometime later cursing the tunic that would not zip. "I could zip this damn thing yesterday," she hissed.

Seven raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, you required the use of my Borg appendage to cinch the front closed in order to zip it."

Janeway frowned and then suddenly hurled the jacket at the wall. The satisfaction of abusing it was quickly replaced by panic when she heard her pips ping around the room.

Seven watched one pip bounce against a wall and fall to the center of the now-made bed. She reached for it, proffering it to Kathryn. "Perhaps you would allow me to replicate a new, larger tunic."

Seven watched Kathryn's features harden. "I knew you were going to say that!"

"Most, if not all, women will have their midsection amplified at least two or three times their average volume during pregnancy."

Kathryn closed her eyes. "The _facts_ do not make me feel better, Seven."

Seven unmercifully gripped her own wrist behind her back. She looked around the room and then at her fractious partner. "Then please enlighten me as to what will assist you prepare for your duty shift."

Janeway froze in the middle of backing up to look under the bed. "I've never known you to be sarcastic. Why start now?"

"I have not," Seven replied. "I merely inquired—"

"I'm pregnant, not deaf!"

Seven resisted the temptation to respond, merely tipping her head hoping it would be a sufficiently vague response that Kathryn could mistake it for acquiescence. She did.

"Can you at least get the three other pips that rolled under the bed?"

Seven almost said, "My pleasure." But decided it would be misconstrued. She easily retrieved the pips. She rose from her knees to find Kathryn wearing her unzipped, one-pipped tunic.

"I'm wearing the damn thing this way!" she snapped, flapping each side.

"I believe I did not comment on your attire," Seven said, holding the pips out and waiting for Kathryn to tell her what to do.

"You gave me that haughty Borg look!"

Seven raised her ocular implant, but wisely remained mute.

"There it is again!"

"I apologize if my natural expressions are mis…." Seven pressed her lips together, using the opportunity to change strategies. "I apologize."

Kathryn finally noticed the pips in her hand. "Can you please put them on me? My jacket is too tigh—never mind that." Kathryn tipped her head, giving her spouse access to the right side of her tunic collar.

Seven took each one and lovingly applied them to the perfect spot. Then she tipped her own head crossways and kissed the sinew that stretched the elegant length of Kathryn's neck.

Kathryn sighed, reaching up her hand pat Seven's star-bursted cheek. "I'm sorry, darling," she whispered. "However do you put up with me?"

Seven held herself immobile. The dangers of the Kobiyashi Maru test crystallized. Any answer she provided to her spouse in her present condition would be incorrect, regardless of the quantity of caveats. But how did one escape the no-win situation? She had read that James T. Kirk had cheated on the test, changing the perimeters of the program to allow a response that did not include self-destruction. _Efficient,_ she thought. But a pregnant Kathryn—however prickly her current condition—was beyond the repair of simple code alternations. No, Seven would have to be more cunning than the Borg Queen, more stealthy than the Hirogen and more powerful than Species 8417, if she were to escape unscathed to kiss another day.

"Seven?"

Seven's internal alarms rang a code red. _Warning! Your delay has_—

Janeway dropped her hand from Seven's hip and frowned. "Am I so _awful_ right now that you can't even answer?"

Seven fought hard to keep her eyes from slamming shut. She'd never been hit with two deceptive questions in a row. Her morning was going to deteriorate beyond a simple pout. _Kathryn would now_…

Heavy tears fell from the gray eyes and Kathryn's lovely face was a jumble of pain and frustration. "I _am_ awful," she whimpered. "Admit it."

_Ahh, at last a way out of the morass! _

Seven seized Kathryn and pulled her as close at their large fetus would allow. She kissed the tears away, while cupping her ear. "You are wonderful," Seven replied. She was rewarded with a faint smile. "And beautiful—"

"Why haven't you touched me in three weeks then?"

"Oh, my Kat," Seven whispered. "I have desired you daily, but you have indicated every night you are fatigued and you have fallen asleep the instant your head impacts the pillow."

She cried into Seven's shoulder as the Borg stroked her hair. "You're the one who's wonderful."

Seven tipped her chin and kissed her lightly. Again their lips lingered one over the other, smacking with each impact. Kathryn opened her mouth and Seven's tongue surged forward in a frenetic, hungry kiss.

Seven's hand slipped easily into Kathryn's tunic to cup one of her engorged breasts. "How fortunate for me," Seven whispered against her lips. "My access has been expedited by your traitorous jacket."

Kathryn threw her head back and laughed, drawing Seven's lips to the hollow of her neck. "Oh, how I adore you!"

A bang at the door of their bedroom made them both jump. _"I'm starving!"_ came the familiar cry. _"Why isn't breakfast ready?"_

Kathryn groaned disappointment. "Why can't she just use her commbadge? Why does she have to pummel the poor door?"

"I believe Eridani is more satisfied with the unusual methods."

"_Hello! Are you even awake yet?"_

"One moment," Seven called behind her shoulder.

They heard a mumbled litany of invectives as she stepped away from the door. "I hope she outgrows those swear words she learned from Mr. Commagees," Kathryn said. "They are so unevolved."

"The Doctor said we should avoid reacting to her use of swear words to defeat her enjoyment of them."

"Hmm," Kathryn said, their foreheads together and still embraced. "I don't think it's working."

=/\=

Seven was setting the breakfast plates at the table when Kathryn emerged from her bedroom. Dani was about the plow into her meal when Seven ordered her to halt. "It is customary to wait on your entire family to be seated before commencing the ante meridian meal."

"But I'm famished," she said. Her growth recently had been at alarming rates. She was up to Kathryn's nose and every day she gained a little. The Doctor attributed her extraordinary growth—beyond what Voyager's other children were experiencing—to Seven's Nordic heritage.

Kathryn stepped up to her daughter's chair. "Good morning," she replied, kissing the top of the girl's red head.

Dani reached around, letting her arm stretch as far around her rotund mother as it would go. "Morning, Cap," she said.

Just as Cappie bent over to place a kiss on the girl's cheek, she felt a torrent of warm fluid cascade down between her legs. She looked up at Seven in alarm. Dani looked up at her mother in puzzlement.

"Cappie, um, I think you—Mom, I think Cappie—um, I'm not sure—but I think Cappie _pissed_ in her pants."

Cappie frowned at the ugly word. "I did not urinate," she managed to say through gritted teeth. She really wanted to berate the eight-year-old for selecting the most vulgar expression she could.

"Um, yeah, you did."

"Eridani, point of fact, Cappie has experienced amniorrhexis, which is the natural process of the rupturing of her membrane. The liquid you see was in the amniotic sac."

Dani crinkled her nose and looked up with an air of disgust. "Ew."

Cappie looked away, slightly embarrassed and sighed. "I suppose better here under the unsympathetic watch of my daughter than on the bridge."

Kathryn and Dani watched Seven replace Cappie's breakfast into the recycling station. "Computer, recycle."

"Seven, I was going to eat that!" Kathryn protested.

"The Doctor informed all spouses and significant others that upon commencement of labor, you should not be given biomatter to consume."

"But I'm hungry," she whispered.

"It will prevent vomiting during labor, Kathryn," Seven replied.

"Oh gross, Mom! Geez," Dani said around a mouthful of Risian pancakes.

"Eridani, I will inquire whether Ensign Wildman may—"

"No!" Dani shouted, holding her palms up. "No, no and hell no!"

Seven's face was placid, but Kathryn's turned red at the use of an invective, however mild. Seven faintly shook her head for Kathryn to refrain from responding to the word. Kathryn pursed her lips and whirled. "I'm going to change then."

"Please replace your uniform with sleepwear for sickbay."

Kathryn waved as she disappeared behind her sliding bedroom door.

=/\=

Janeway arrived to find a sickbay hopping with at least five other women, further along in various stages of labor. She and Seven were waved to the last remaining biobed that had privacy shields already in place.

Several hours and a few hundred contractions later, the Chief Medical Officer and Dr. von Behring had not returned since their initial evaluation.

"You've got to be kidding me," Janeway growled through another contraction. She grimaced and tried to hold her breath.

"Kathryn, you must respirate."

"It hurts, dammit!" she said through gritted teeth.

"You hinder the full strength of your contractions if they cannot receive needed oxygen."

"Where's the damn doctors?"

Seven's Borg hand held Kathryn's. It was less strained by the force of her grip, particularly during the painful contractions. She was bent over, her face close to Kathryn's "You are operating within normal parameters," she whispered.

"That's what you think! I'd like to see you shove a watermelon out of your vagina and see how _you_ like it."

Seven was unflustered. "You are exhibiting maternal psychosis, brought on by the rigors of childbirth."

"Maternal psychosis? Did you just make that up?"

"Yes," she said, evenly holding the stare.

"You lied to me?"

"No, I distracted you," Seven said, straightening up. "Your contraction is complete."

Kathryn glanced over to see the monitor flatline. "I'll be damned," she said.

When she turned back to stare at Seven, the Captain's mouth was half cocked in a tremulous smile. "You know you shouldn't have told me, darling. How are you going to distract me for the next thousand?"

Seven smoothed Kathryn's wet hair back, kissing the temple and then the side of her mouth. "Perhaps it is time we discuss the addition of more children to our collective."

"More? How many did you have in mind?"

"We will surpass the golden mean, with this child," she said of geometric constant. "I do not believe pi will be feasible with its unending decimal places. However, we are within reach of the second of Conway's constants?"

Kathryn looked up, breathing deeply as she tried to recall her mathematics. "I forget," she said. "What number is that?"

Seven studied the woman, wiped her brow again, and offered her a sip of water. "Eleven."

Just when Kathryn was about to protest loudly, another contraction hit. She growled, shaking her head. When she came out of it, Kathryn's face was red. "If you think," she said panting, "that I'm going to bear nine more of your children, you have a helluva lot of nerve, lady!"

Seven raised an eyebrow.

Then Kathryn let Seven have it with a bevy of swear words that would make even a sailor blush. When she had finished her tirade, Seven offered the woman ice chips. "Now I understand the origin of Eridani's infatuation with profanity."

Kathryn bared her teeth in a feral snarl and then braced herself for another contraction that hit her in the abdomen like a planet hurtling at light speed. She seemed to curl up, shrinking into herself. Her eyes were clamped down and her mouth was a prim line. When it was done, she emerged panting. "Oh, shit! That hurt. Just when I think it can't get any worse, it does."

Kathryn tried to sit up, but Seven patted her shoulder and shook her head.

"Where the hell are the Doctors?" the Captain asked.

"They are with other patients who are further along, Kathryn?"

"Rank has its privilege!" she growled. She instructed the computer to locate the doctors and hail them.

"Captain?" the Chief Medical Officer said with a sigh. "Can't this wait? Gilmore is about to deliver."

Seven leaned down, whispering into her ear. "You will regret abusing your authority, Captain"

Kathryn grumbled something under her breath, before saying: "As you were, Doctor!"

The next contraction hit, drawing every corner of the woman into her center. She lost track of time and space, only pain existed. When it finished, she emerged panting again. "Damn, that smarts."

"I believe you said that," Seven said, wiping her brow.

Janeway turned an incendiary glare on her wife. "Are you going to let me say it _again_? Hmm? Or are you now the labor police?"

Seven studied her for a bit, and then shook her head. "Labor police do not exist."

Dr. von Behring appeared behind the holographic curtain. "Ah, good morning, Captain," he said cheerfully. He glanced up at the chronometer and chuckled. "I mean good afternoon. My, how time flies when you're having fun."

Seven braced herself for her wife's inflammatory response.

"Who's having fun?" Kathryn growled. "Because if they are, I want their drugs."

The Doctor looked up. "Many of the other women are trying to go as long as they can without medical intervention. They want to experience the full range of labor in the time-honored traditions of their ancestors."

"Fuck that!" Janeway howled.

"Captain! Really!" von Behring said, drawing closer and initiating a sound dampener around Janeway's biobed.

"I'm in labor," she said through gritted teeth. "Labor is—"

"Laborious?" von Behring offered with a smile.

"A bitch!" Janeway pronounced the last word as hard. Spittle flying onto von Behring's sleeve.

Dr. von Behring gave her a patronizing look. "Everyone has their own take." Then he unceremoniously lifted her blanket and inserted a holographic finger in her birth canal. Janeway jumped and flinched.

"Next time, warn me, Doctor," she huffed, gripping the bed with a death grip. "And if this baby isn't born within the next—"

The Doctor withdrew his hand, lifting it as a surgeon would. The holographic appendage flickered, disappeared and reappeared. "There, all sanitized. Well, Captain, the bad news is you're only dilated five centimeters," he said, adjusting her blanket again.

"What the good news?"

He patted her distended belly and smiled amiably. "You're halfway there."

"Fuck that, too!" Janeway cried out in a long mournful sob, tears joining the sweat of her face.

"That's no way for a mother to talk," Dr. von Behring chided.

Defying her fatigue, Kathryn pushed up on her elbows and pointed a shaking finger at the holographic doctor. "When I finish with this, I am going to personally scrutinize ever line of your programming with my hand wavering precariously over the decompiling key."

"Even B'Elanna isn't this belligerent," von Behring said to Seven.

When Janeway made to rise, von Behring stepped away from the bed and addressed the reasonable Borg. "I'll be back in an hour to reevaluate the Captain. In the meantime, keep her comfortable—" He spoke louder to cover Captain's other invective. "If things progress faster than normal, call one of us."

"What about epidural anesthesia for Kathryn?" Seven asked.

The Doctor blinked. "Oh, yes, we could do that. I didn't think about that. Let me go replicate the proper medicine and syringe."

Janeway softened her gaze at Seven. "Thank you, darling."

Seven captured a hand that only moments ago had been in a white knuckle grip under the onslaught of childbirth. "You are mine to care for, Kathryn."

Kathryn's expression turned loving and then suddenly she grimaced and began a long shrink inward as her uterine contractions began.

The Captain did not even jump when the red alert klaxon sounded on the ship. Seven stood erect and tapped her commbadge, as she looked down at her wife. Kathryn would likely want to walk to the bridge, unless Seven provided her with the information she needed. "Seven of Nine to the Bridge."

"_Bridge here."_ Chakotay's voice was clipped.

"I require a report for the Captain."

"The fireflies are back in full force. They are attempting to penetrate the shield. We are modulating them and that appears to be working. Will keep you posted. Chakotay out."

Seven sighed. It had been at least 12 weeks since any other incident from them. Seven considered a recent course alteration that she'd plotted into the Astrometrics. She was still wondering at that when Janeway emerged from the contraction.

"What's wrong?" She tried to sit up but Seven held her shoulder. The ship buffeted and they could hear the pops and cracks of conduits in sickbay.

"Commander Chakotay has the matter in hand. It is an appearance of the energy beings."

"Now? They come now! What else could go wrong?"

Sickbay was suddenly plunged into the dark, leaving the emergency track lighting along the deck plating. The hum of the machines softened and then finally hushed.

"Shit!" It was the Klingon rage of B'Elanna Torres a few biobeds down.

"It's okay, B'Elanna," Seven could hear Tom Paris say. "I'm a trained medic."

"I don't want a train medic!" she howled. "I want a damn doctor!"

"He's offline, apparently. So is von Behring."

Janeway looked over at Seven. "I think I can kiss that epidural goodbye."

"Yes, I believe you will be experiencing the full range of labor as your ancestors did."

Janeway scowled, her lips twisted to unfurl a volley of swear words, when another contraction hit for which Seven was eternally grateful.

=/\=

Seven mopped the Captain's forehead and brushed her wet red tendrils back. "You are doing admirably," she whispered.

For the past hour, Kathryn had been too tired to respond with anything other than grunts or an occasional murmur or gesture. "Doctor?" Her voice was hoarse.

"Engineering is working on power as we speak."

Seven heard the door swish open. "What are you doing here?" It was the voice of Ensign Culhane, whose girlfriend was in labor.

"Mom!"

Seven recognized Dani's yell. She patted Kathryn's arm. "I'll be but a moment."

She stepped around just as two fathers-to-be approached her. "As you were, gentlemen. I'll handle it from here."

Dani was bouncing nervously from one foot to the other. Her hands were shaking. "What is the matter, Eridani?" she whispered on approach.

Dani looked around before speaking. "I, ah, I got a message. From…" She jerked her head.

Seven put a hand over her shoulder and took her into the corridor. "What did it say?"

"The baby," she squeaked. "She will be sick when she's born."

Seven became fully alert. "What form would the sickness take?"

"The Borg nanoprobes will activate upon exiting the birth canal."

Seven realized that Dani was reciting the message verbatim.

"You must program your own nanoprobes and inject them to prevent her assimilation."

Seven stood up, caressing her chin. "You have done well. It will be fine."

"Do you think…" Dani looked longingly at the sickbay entrance. "Think she'll be okay? Cap and the baby, I mean?"

"Yes, especially since you have be successful in delivering a timely message. You should receive a family commendation."

Dani smiled at her mother. "Give Cap a kiss for me?"

Seven kissed Dani's cheek before replying affirmatively.

=/\=

Seven had been relieved when power was restored to sickbay only moments ago. Janeway's legs were raised in holographic stirrups. The biobed sheet had been removed. She was covered only from the waist up. Her hair was sopping and her face fatigued. She was pushing with every contraction, which were about a minute apart.

The Chief Medical Officer waltzed in. "I can see the head," he exclaimed.

"Epidural," Janeway husked.

"Too late. She'll be out in the time it takes to replicate it." He put a hand on the Captain's bare knee. "On the next contraction, I want you to push as hard as you can."

Janeway grunted in frustration. "Do I look like I'm sipping an Altairian brandy?"

"You're doing a fine job, Captain." He glanced at the monitor, which had also reactivated. "Here it comes."

She groaned, gripping Seven's hand with an intensity that fascinated the Borg. Because it was her Borg hand, she was able to measure the energy output, it being equivalent to power the holodeck for an hour.

Seven felt as if her heart would stop when a baby girl slipped out of the birth canal, her skin a pale pink and her umbilical cord trailing behind her. "Oh, Kathryn," she whispered.

"Is she okay?" her wife croaked.

"I have seen nebulas and the births of stars, but never have I witnessed something so beautiful as our daughter's birth."

Kathryn fell back, panting. "Good," she whispered, closing her eyes. But she snapped them open with the girl's first wail. It was shaking and infuriated. The second was weaker and the third was nearly nonexistent.

Seven watched as small Borg implants began to appear on the baby's face, then her torso, her arms and at last, her legs. The Doctor severed the umbilical cord and reached for the child. "I never expected this," he whispered.

"Expected what?" Kathryn asked, concerned but unable to see.

He was about to whisk her away when Seven grabbed his arm. "Lay her down, Doctor."

"But I can't. I must—"

"Now."

He watched as Seven of Nine's assimilation tubules began to sway. He set the soundless baby down, her body still coated with blood and mucous.

Seven grimaced as her hand neared the child's neck. _Eridani's warnings have been true._ That was the litany inside her head as she pierced the child's neck. The baby did not cry or react in anyway.

"What's happening," Janeway asked, still flat and barely able to make out the body of her child.

"I have inserted nanoprobes in order halt her assimilation."

They watched breathless. One minute. Then two and three. Finally, the Borg implants began to withdraw and within five minutes, her skin was flawless and her crying returned with a fury.

"She's cold," the Doctor said quietly. "Seven could you take her to the bathing station. Make sure you keep her under the heat lamp, while I finish up with Kathryn."

Kathryn gurgled disapproval in her throat, but the Doctor patted her bare ankle. "You can see her when she's nice and clean. You have to push out the afterbirth and then tidy up."

"How did she get Borg nanoprobes, Doctor?" Janeway asked, as the Doctor massaged her stomach.

"I suppose any cell of Seven's will possess a certain amount of nanoprobes. They must have been dormant during gestation, waiting for the future drone to mature."

"Not a future drone," the Captain corrected.

"Quite right," he said, apologizing.

=/\=

Kathryn kissed the wrapped baby in her arms. She was resting after taking a little breast milk.

"Was breastfeeding difficult?" Seven inquired.

"Not compared to pushing her out," Kathryn said, lightly bouncing the baby in her arms. She adjusted the pink receiving blanket that was wrapped tightly around her body.

Dr. von Behring stepped through the privacy shield. "Ladies," he said quietly. "You have a little visitor who wants to see her sister. Is it okay to send her in?"

Both mothers looked thrilled. "Oh, please do," Kathryn said.

Dani stepped through, stopping at the perimeter as she eyed the scene. Her mothers smiled reassuringly.

"Cap, are you okay?"

"Yes, darling, thank you for asking. I am now. Want to take a peak?"

Seven made room for Dani by the bed. She leaned over while Cap pulled the blanket from the girl's face.

"Can you uncover her head?"

Kathryn tugged the blanket down and proffered the girl up. But neither mother expected Dani's reaction.

"Are you sure you have the right baby?"

The parents shared an amused look before Kathryn responded. "Yes, we are. Why do you ask?"

"So she didn't get swapped accidentally?"

"No, we are 100 percent sure. Is there something wrong?"

"Well, yeah."

Both parents became rigid. "What is it, Dani?" Janeway asked, her heart beating nearly out of her chest.

"She doesn't have red hair," she said seriously.

Janeway's anxiety melted and she gave her eldest daughter a crooked grin. "Well, no, it looks like she'll be a blonde." She rubbed the girl's soft head, feeling the downy soft fuzz.

"That's not fair," Dani said crossly.

Janeway couldn't help herself and she laughed out loud, earning a fierce glare. "I'm sorry, Dani. It's just you scared us for a second there."

"She should have red hair."

"I am blonde," Seven pointed out.

"My grandmother was blonde," Janeway replied.

Dani crinkled her nose and harrumphed.

Janeway tugged Dani's hand, wiggling it about playfully. "So what should we name her?"

Dani thought for a moment. "How about Spiro?"

Janeway tried to keep her smile from dimming. "Not a good idea, I think," she whispered as gently as she could.

Still staring at the yawning baby, Dani was pensive. "How about…."

Her parents were breathless, not wanting to shoot another idea down, but not wanting a bizarre name either.

"Um, how about Shannon?" She looked into Cappie's eyes, which lit up.

"Shannon," Janeway said experimentally. She looked at Seven with a raised eyebrow.

"It is suitable," Seven replied.

Dani took Seven's hand. "Shannon Astrid Janeway. What do you think, Mom?"

"Astrid was my grandmother's name," Seven whispered to Kathryn.

"Then Shannon Astrid Janeway it is!" Kathryn said with a joyful laugh.

Dani was pleased her selection was well received. "Can I hold her?" she asked.

Seven offered her a chair. "You must sit first. I will place the child in your arms."

Just as Seven was going to lay the sleeping baby there, she pulled back. "You must never touch the soft spot on the top her head. It will cause brain damage. Do you understand?"

Dani's eyes were wide and intent on her sister. "Yeah, yeah. Can I have her?"

Seven slipped the baby on Dani's lap and folded the older sister's arms around her for stability. She pulled back and Kathryn took her hand. "Everything's going to be okay," she whispered.

Seven nodded, still intent on Dani's technique. "Keep your elbow high, Eridani," she said. "It supports the infant's enlarged cranium."

"I want a holopicture of those two," Kathryn whispered. "It will be a beautiful memory."

=/\=

A week later, Seven held the sleeping baby to her, cradling her with one arm. She and Kathryn had been relieved that she was not going to grow as fast as Dukat Wildman, but the Doctor theorized it was that she did not get as much theta radiation exposure as he and Voyager's other children. His caveat was that many of the children grew at differing rates, so Shannon's growth could change at any time.

The child slept peacefully, her delicate blue veins mapping her small eyelids. Seven ran a hand over her spiky blonde hair. Never had she felt this content. Shannon Astrid Janeway, her daughter. She smiled faintly when the child cooed.

Then Seven went back to programming an Astrometrics sweep of the parsec of space ahead of them. She was recalibrating a route home that would shave off any time possible.

Halfway through the sensor sweep, the baby began to stir. The chronometer read that it was oh-nine-hundred hours, time for someone's nutritional supplement. She remained asleep, so Seven began to sway gently as she continued working at her station, the large image of stars on the viewscreen in front of her.

At oh-nine-thirty, the child proclaimed herself awake with a shaky squawk. Seven peered down, watching her move her head from side to side. She settled down when she discovered her fists, sucking on them for comfort. Seven resumed the swaying and continued working.

At ten-hundred, Shannon Janeway expressed her full outrage with an ear-piercing yell. Its undercurrents were newborn trebles. But the indignation of hunger was unmistakable. Seven glanced at the door and then unswaddled her, flinging the receiving blanket over her shoulder.

She held the baby against her chest, relieved this quieted the unruly child. But her relief was short-lived, replaced by a sensation of suckling at one of her nipples. The child had latched onto one of Seven's breasts through her biosuit. Seven yanked the baby away, dangling her at arm's length. Immediately, Shannon's face turned scarlet, her mouth opened but strangely silent.

Seven looked down to find that the material covering the tip of her breast was darkened from baby saliva. Then the baby's deafening wail filled Astrometrics, sound waves bouncing haphazardly about the empty facility striking Seven's eardrums like a ratchet against a steel pan. Seven did not register the door that slid open, until someone was beside her.

"What are you doing?" Kathryn asked, reaching for the crying child. "Come here, darling." Kathryn nestled her close, the baby responding with quieter cries. "Are you hungry?"

Seven frowned, knowing that the last two minutes had not been a reflection of their entire time together. "She needed breast milk approximately one hour ago."

"Why didn't you call me?" Kathryn walked the child over to Seven's workspace. "May I use your office?"

Kathryn turned, handing the child back. She began to scream immediately, a crimson coloring returning in a split second.

"You are being deceptive, Shannon," Seven said evenly down to the furious baby. "You have been content for exactly ninety-two-point-three percent of our time together."

"A hungry baby is extremely unreasonable," Kathryn said, as she unzipped her tunic. "I'll just be a minute. I have to strip."

"I am well acquainted with the custom," Seven said, as she glanced around the cavernous Astrometrics Department. Seven instructed the computer to place a level ten security lock and used Borg encryption codes. Kathryn was naked from the waist up, her normally small breasts were over gorged with milk. White drops baptized the tawny tips.

"Let me see my little love," she said, cooing as Seven placed the squalling child into Kathryn's arms.

Instantly she quieted down, finding a milk-giving breast to latch on. Kathryn ran a hand over the girl's hair. "That's it, sweetheart," she cooed.

Seven stood there for several long moments, watching the scene. It was at once heartwarming and arousing. Kathryn looked up to find Seven's lusty stare, recognizing it for it was. Kathryn cupped her free breast.

"Pull up a chair," she said in a gravelly voice. "There's one spot available."

"That is a nutrition for our baby," Seven protested in a dry mouth.

"There's plenty," Kathryn said.

"Your invitation is a jest," Seven said, her eyes fixed on the fat tip.

"Not if you really want to try," she purred.

Seven could tell that Kathryn was aroused. It had been more than four weeks since they'd made love, three of them prior to birth. Hormones were racing through their blood streams like quark particles in a lab. Parts were perpetually swollen.

Seven actually considered placing her mouth around the tip, sucking on it. But finally discarded the idea. It would be less functional and more sexual. With the baby beside her, Seven decided it would be unacceptable.

"Perhaps when the Doctor clears you for sexual relations, we could incorporate an appetizer of breast milk into the foreplay."

Kathryn seemed disappointed. "All right," she said. Kathryn's eyes flicked to Seven's biosuit, one of her peaks was unusually darkened. "What happened to your uniform?"

Seven looked down, sighing. "Shannon is under the false impression that all breasts supply her meals."

"Yours _are_ rather full, darling," she said with a crooked smile. "But empty."

"Correct," Seven said.

Suddenly, Kathryn got a mischievous grin. "You know, you could always just let them serve as a pacifier."

"Pacifier?" Seven could not contain the look of horror and Kathryn laughed.

"It was just a thought," she chuckled.

"My idea of pacification involves compression rifles."

"Babies like to suckle, sweetheart," Kathryn said, gazing down again at the blonde bundle in her arms. "It's soothing to them. She may not necessarily need for you to express milk."

Seven covered each of her breast tips with her palms, the very idea of allowing another human being to suckle there for anything less than sexual seemed alien.

Kathryn snorted at Seven's disgusted look. "Oh, darling," she replied, knowing that one of Seven's favorite positions was for Kathryn to suck the tall woman's nipples while her hand brought her to climax. "S'okay, Seven. Just kiss me at least."

Seven leaned down, pressing her lips gently to Kathryn's mouth. But the Captain was hungry for more and it became apparent as her kiss turned demanding.

Seven pulled back reluctantly. "Kathryn, you have not been cleared as of this time index."

"No," she said, closing her eyes. "But my body doesn't care."

"I am anxious as well, but it is more suitable to wait." Then Seven looked around, never having considered that Astrometrics was a suitable place for sexual congress.

"Damn," Kathryn said. "You used to be so easy to seduce."

Seven stared at her spouse for so long that Kathryn opened her eyes. Her concerned look brought another easy chuckle to the Captain.

"You are being facetious?" Seven didn't mean for the comment to be a question, but she wasn't sure. Sleep deprivation had shredded any ability Seven had to read subtleties.

Kathryn took the woman's hand, raising it to her lips. "Yes, my love." She felt the baby let go. "Oh, it's time to burp."

Seven placed a towel over Kathryn's shoulder and watched her lay the baby there, gently patting her back. "I find it pleasurable to watch you nurse our child."

"I find it pleasurable to be watched by you."

"Perhaps we should have another."

Kathryn laughed softly. "Let's just raise the two we have and go from there."

"Very well."

=/\=

A few nights later, the computer chirped on in Kathryn and Seven's bedroom. _"Eridani Janeway reports to Captain Janeway that Shannon Janeway is crying."_

Kathryn opened a single eye to look at the chronometer. "Damn. It's only been two hours." She shoved the covers off of her, reaching for her robe to cover her naked form.

Seven snuggled into the bed. "I would accommodate the child if my mammary glands produced milk."

"I know, darling. It's the thought that counts." Kathryn turned on her heel. "Of course, you could always change her while I prepare her nutritional supplements."

Seven sat up. Her golden locks were in disarray. "I will comply," she said as she reached for her robe.

The mothers slipped through Dani and Shannon's door to find the baby crying in her bed. "She's crying again!" Dani wailed.

"So I hear," Kathryn whispered. At the sound of the door, the baby had stopped crying and looked up to smile at her mother. Kathryn strangled a gasp in her throat. She wasn't a newborn. The child looked to be at least three months old. She'd more than tripled her weight in one night. Her bed was wet and her small diaper had been shredded around the larger baby.

"Oh, my little love," Kathryn cooed. "You are soaked." She handed her over to a yawning Borg. "I'll strip the bed while you change her."

Seven disappeared with the baby, while Kathryn ordered for the computer to raise illumination to one third.

"Why can't I have my own room?" Dani mumbled into her pillow.

"Because there is none available," Kathryn said, stripping the crib.

"Naomi has her own room."

Kathryn sighed heavily. "Where does Dukat sleep?"

"He sleeps with his mother."

Kathryn shook her head once and clicked her teeth, tossing the soiled linens in a pile. "Sorry. That's not going to happen here."

"But why not?" Dani rose to one arm.

"Because I share my bed already and we're full up."

"This reeks." She threw herself down, the bed squeaking slightly.

"Wait until she's eating solid foods," Janeway said with a chuckle.

"Did you ever share a room with Aunt Pheebs?"

"No, but we lived on a farm. It's your tough luck to live on a starship."

"Maybe we could move her crib to the living room then."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because she goes to sleep at 6 p.m." Janeway said, placing her hands on her hips as she watched her prone daughter. "Would you really be quiet enough out there to let her sleep?"

"Yes."

Janeway laughed and shook her head. "No, you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would!"

Seven appeared with a baby nestled against her. Her little fists were batting the air and she was cooing. "Pips," she said. "Shannon awaits her midnight snack."

"Computer, lights out."

The lights went dark, allowing a small Voyager night light to glow on the wall between Dani's bed and the crib. "Good night, Dani," Janeway said, as she followed Seven out.

"It's not fair!" Dani yelled to the door as it slid closed.

=/\=

A few days later, Captain Janeway came skipping home. After arguing for two days with the Chief Medical Officer, he'd finally allowed her to return to duty about two hours a day. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was better than staying in her quarters.

She unzipped her tunic as she stepped in to find Seven sitting on the couch, with Dani on one side and a blonde on the other. The blonde was about ten days old, but physically she looked closer to three.

Both Shannon and Dani were applying paints to their mother's face. Dani had painted a river scene on Seven's left side, with her ocular implant as a jumping fish caught on a fishing pole. Shannon had painted Seven's starburst yellow and painted a green meadow.

The physical and cognitive growth from this morning, when Shannon appeared to be closer to a year old startled Janeway into silence.

Seven looked up and smiled, drawing her children's gaze to Cappie. "Computer, delete paints."

Seven's face was scrubbed of all paint. Shannon awkwardly climbed down and ran to the Captain, shoving her tunic aside and trying to untuck her undershirt. "Yay, Cappie!" the girl said in a soft palate. "I hungwy!"

Janeway looked helplessly at Seven and then down to the three-year-old toddling, falling and toddling to her. "Captain to sickbay."

"Von Behring here, Captain."

"I need you in my quarters. Now!"

Shannon fell to her bottom and started to cry, jarring Janeway from her shock. She picked her up and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just need a word with the Doctor. Would you like a little milk in a cup?"

Shannon's bottom lip came out in a pout. "I want milk from hewe." She patted Janeway's aching and engorged breast, causing her to leak fluid and dribble down her shirt.

The Captain frowned as she paced.

She studied the girl's face as she tried to soothe her. She had the same blue eyes as Dani, but her face was leaner more like Seven's, but with thinner lips like Kathryn and with evidence of a strong dimple at the chin. Her blonde hair was shoulder length and still retained an almost white hue.

Von Behring materialized in the living area of the Captain's Quarters. "What's the problem, Captain?"

Janeway started to speak, but stopped. "Dani, could you please excuse us?"

"But why?"

"It's a private matter."

"But Shay gets to stay."

"It involves her and I want the Doctor to examine her."

"It's not—"

"Fair," Janeway finished the oft-repeated phrase. "Yes, I know. But guess what? Life isn't fair. So skedaddle."

She pouted her way across the room and into hers.

She inhaled deeply and handed the girl to the Doctor. He nodded as he took medical tricorder readings. "She's perfectly healthy but growing at rates consistent with other babies on Voyager."

"But she wants to breast feed, Doctor."

The Doctor gave her a face. "Yes, and that's a problem because…?"

"She's not a baby? She's verbal. She's cognitive."

"Captain, I assure you, she may look older but she is still only ten days old. Her age is encoded at the cellular level." The Doctor glanced up, putting hand to chin. "It's a fascinating study, really. Telomeres are little snips of DNA that hang at the end and—"

"Dr. von Behring. It's fascinating. But beyond the scope here of our discussion."

"Well, as I was going to point out—eventually—Shannon may appear to be older but her body still has the nutritional needs for your breast milk."

Kathryn rubbed her lips together. "Doctor, she's _asking_ me for breast milk!"

"So give it to her," he said nonchalantly.

Kathryn scratched her eyebrow in frustration and then bounced around the room as the girl began to fuss and try to pull up her shirt. "It's not—it's awkward, Doctor. She's lifting my shirt! What if I were to be in the Mess Hall and she came up and tried to drink?"

Dr. von Behring gave a shrug. "A crewmember would think the child is thirsty."

Kathryn strangled a frustrated groan in her throat.

After watching the exchange intently, Seven stood up and retrieved the child from Janeway's arms. Shannon burst into tears. "But I want to suck Cappie's boobies," she wailed.

Janeway frowned, lifting a hand to indicate the crying child. "It's—" then in a whisper "—undignified."

Dr. von Behring's face softened. "It's perfectly normal, Captain. Some human cultures breastfed their sons until they were past five."

Janeway gave a horrified expression.

Shannon continued to wail. Kathryn looked remorseful for giving her up so she took the crying child back, while keeping her from angling her tiny mouth over tender nipples.

"Captain," the Doctor finally said, eyeing their struggle. "Just feed your daughter. Worry about dignity when you're an admiral."

Then von Behring dematerialized.

Shannon threw her head back to scream until she was red and her face was wet.

"Okay, baby, okay," Janeway cooed. "Seven can you push my shirt up."

Seven quirked a corner of her mouth. "My pleasure," she said.

Janeway couldn't keep a tremulous smile from her face. "Later, darling. First things first."

Shannon latched on and closed her eyes. Both Kathryn and Seven could hear the swoosh of the milk into her mouth and see her muscles swallow it. "I hope she isn't twelve when she decides to give this up," Kathryn said sardonically.

Seven kneeled beside them to brush the blonde locks from Shannon's cheek and kiss her. She continued to run the backs of her fingers along the girl's cheek.

She stopped abruptly and looked at Kathryn. "I cannot imagine a better life than this with you and our subunits. Thank you, Kathryn."

"Are you crying, Seven?"

She batted at her tears. "My lacrimal ducts are malfunctioning."

Kathryn leaned over as far as she could go, considering the little person attached to her. "Come here, darling."

Seven leaned in and Janeway captured her lips in a passionate kiss. "I never realized I could be a Captain and a wife and a mother. You have opened me to all these wonders and I look forward to the next fifty or sixty years."

The End.

A/N: I hope you liked this story. Please drop me a line and say so. I spend a lot of time working on it.

The next book in the saga of Cappie, Seven, Dani and Shannon will be "Living Daylights." I will begin it as a separate story very soon. I had thought about including it as part two here, but there is a big time gap, so I thought it was best to start a new "book." There will be three more total, including "Living Daylights," in this series.

"**Living Daylights" summary:** The beings of light are still toying with Voyager, pulling them into a stretch of space that no one has ever seen before. Can they find a way to communicate? Meanwhile, the adults on Voyager are captured and enslaved by a mysterious ammonia-based race who live inside a gas giant planet (like Jupiter) on the edge of the galaxy. The children are left to die on a powerless Voyager amid the wreckage of other lifeless ships. Just when things can't get any worse, some Borg cubes show up looking for Seven of Nine's and Captain Janeway's daughters. Is there any hope of finally reaching home?


End file.
